'Twas here my summer paused
'Twas here my summer paused What ripeness after then To other scene or other soul My sentence had begun.
To winter to remove With winter to abide Go manacle your icicle Against your Tropic Bride.
Emily Dickinson
'Twas here my summer paused What ripeness after then To other scene or other soul My sentence had begun.
To winter to remove With winter to abide Go manacle your icicle Against your Tropic Bride.
Emily Dickinson looks back on a moment when warmth and fullness came to a sudden stop. She calls it the pause of her summer—a peak of ripeness—then asks what harvest could possibly follow.
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