A Poem (and a photograph)

Summer Ends 02

The last of Summer is Delight

The last of Summer is Delight —
Deterred by Retrospect.
‘Tis Ecstasy’s revealed Review —
Enchantment’s Syndicate.

To meet it — nameless as it is —
Without celestial Mail —
Audacious as without a Knock
To walk within the Veil.

—Emily Dickinson (1830 – 1886)

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