Emily Dickinson Poem

A winged spark doth soar about

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A winged spark doth soar about –
I never met it near
For Lightning it is oft mistook
When nights are hot and sere –

It’s twinkling Travels it pursues
Above the Haunts of men –
A speck of Rapture – first perceived
By feeling it is gone –

A Word dropped careless on a Page
A Wind that rose

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