Emily Dickinson. (№ 256073)

I know the Sky like a tent,
Minimized ever
Immerse in the circus
And softly touched the road.
No clatter of hammers,
No gnashing of nails
Left the circus - and where now
It makes people happy?
And what fascinated us
Amused yesterday
The arena lit circle
And glitter and tinsel, -
Dissipated and blew away
Disappeared without a trace -
As the birds of the autumn caravan
As the cloud ridge.