Abstract Nº 98

I'm slightly proud of this one in particular, and the link that I want to see with the poem.

I'll tell you how the Sun rose —
A Ribbon at a time —
The Steeples swam in Amethyst —
The news, like Squirrels, ran —

The Hills untied their Bonnets —
The Bobolinks — begun —
Then I said softly to myself —
"That must have been the Sun"!

But how he set — I know not —
There seemed a purple stile
That little Yellow boys and girls
Were climbing all the while —

Till when they reached the other side,
A Dominie in Gray —
Put gently up the evening Bars —
And led the flock away —

Emily Dickinson, 318.