“Heavenly Hurt, it gives us—”
—Emily Dickinson

A sunlit chair by Michael John Hunt sits
in light, inside a house with open door.
It’s at a foyer corner—shadowed bits
upon the greenish wall and wooden floor.
One almost could envision Emily
Elizabeth, appearing, Dickinson,
in white, a prisoner of family,
locked up in talk with Thomas Higginson.
Outside one sees the sky, a tree, the grass,
a walk and water, blue and glittering.
There, too, one could imagine she would pass
between the moment and its filtering.
There are so many possibilities.
Why is it—beauty— makes one ill at ease?

 

February 12, 2013

Featured image “A Sunlit Chair,” acrylic on panel, 2011 by Michael John Hunt.

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