Like Rain It Sounded Till It Curved
Emily Dickinson
1235 Like Rain it sounded till it curved And then I new ’twas Wind— It walked as wet as any Wave But swept as dry as sand— When it had pushed itself away To some remotest Plain A coming as of Hosts was heard It filled the Wells, it pleased the Pools It warbled in the Road— It pulled the spigot from the Hills And let the Floods abroad— It loosened acres, lifted seas The sites of Centres stirred Then like Elijah rode away Upon a Wheel of Cloud.
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