(no subject)
A winged spark doth soar about
by Emily Dickinson
A winged spark doth soar about --
I never met it near
For Lightning it is oft mistook
When nights are hot and sere --
Its twinkling Travels it pursues
Above the Haunts of men --
A speck of Rapture -- first perceived
By feeling it is gone --
Rekindled by some action quaint