Author Emily Dickinson 469 The Red—Blaze—is the Morning— The Violet—is Noon— The Yellow—Day—is falling— And after that—is none— But Miles of Sparks—at Evening— Reveal the Width that burned— The Territory Argent—that Never yet—consumed— Tags red Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments