Prisha Anne Mehta
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“I know nothing in the world that has as much power as a word.
Sometimes I write one, and I look at it, until it begins to shine.
”


​- Emily Dickinson

Lamp

11/30/2019

 
This lamp does not belong in summer. It is a winter lamp,
with its twin in the window, its echo in the bone-cold wood.
Summer lamps, they all gleam yellow.
This lamp was not made for lemon light --
for damp porch swings, blue-bluster nights like glass --
It cannot rival the fireflies.

 This winter lamp, it sighs – it scrapes – it pounds – it singes
the ice-marble-air. It does not dare to quicken to being,
only to soothe and soften,
​
throw gossamer sheets over still and beaten forms

    Author

    I'm a 19 year old college student in New Haven, Connecticut.

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