Emily Dickinson

(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886 / Amherst / Massachusetts)

An Awful Tempest Mashed The Air - Poem by Emily Dickinson

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 about An Awful Tempest Mashed The Air by Emily Dickinson

  • (5/6/2014 7:37:00 AM)


    Cool use of words - mash the air (Report) Reply

    0 person liked.
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  • (9/24/2011 8:03:00 PM)


    The literal 'quiet after the storm'.... (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: hair, peace, heaven



Poem Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003



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