Below, you’ll find the poem “The Wind – tapped like a tired Man” by Emily Dickinson.
The Wind – tapped like a tired Man
The Wind — tapped like a tired Man —
And like a Host — “Come in”
I boldly answered — entered then
My Residence within
.
A Rapid — footless Guest —
To offer whom a Chair
Were as impossible as hand
A Sofa to the Air —
.
No Bone had He to bind Him —
His Speech was like the Push
Of numerous Humming Birds at once
From a superior Bush —
.
His Countenance — a Billow —
His Fingers, as He passed
Let go a music — as of tunes
Blown tremulous in Glass —
.
He visited — still flitting —
Then like a timid Man
Again, He tapped — ’twas flurriedly —
And I became alone —
Emily Dickinson
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