It sifts from Leaden Sieves - (311) lyrics
by Emily Dickinson
It sifts from Leaden Sieves -
It powders all the Wood
It fills with Alabaster Wool
The Wrinkles of the Road -
It makes an Even Face
Of Mountain, and of Plain -
Unbroken Forehead from the East
Unto the East again -
It reaches to the Fence -
It wraps it Rail by Rail
Till it is lost in Fleeces -
It deals Celestial Veil
To Stump, and Stack - and Stem -
A Summer’s empty Room -
Acres of Joints, where Harvests were
Recordless, but for them -
It Ruffles Wrists of Posts
As Ankles of a Queen -
Then stills its Artisans - like Ghosts -
Denying they have been -