An Awful Tempest Mashed The Air Poem by Emily Dickinson

An Awful Tempest Mashed The Air

Rating: 2.8


198

An awful Tempest mashed the air—
The clouds were gaunt, and few—
A Black—as of a Spectre's Cloak
Hid Heaven and Earth from view.

The creatures chuckled on the Roofs—
And whistled in the air—
And shook their fists—
And gnashed their teeth—
And swung their frenzied hair.

The morning lit—the Birds arose—
The Monster's faded eyes
Turned slowly to his native coast—
And peace—was Paradise!

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
The Dickinson Reader 29 December 2018

One of her most intelligent poetic visions. I liked the storm personified as a creature.

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Angelina Holmes 06 May 2014

Cool use of words - mash the air

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Martine Bland 24 September 2011

The literal 'quiet after the storm'....

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Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson

Amherst / Massachusetts
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