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Life XVII. When night is almost done (347)

Part One: Life

 
                    XVII
 
WHEN night is almost done,
And sunrise grows so near
That we can touch the spaces,
It ’s time to smooth the hair
 
And get the dimples ready,
And wonder we could care
For that old faded midnight
That frightened but an hour.
Altre opere di Emily Dickinson...



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