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She sights a Bird—she chuckles
Emily Dickinson
507 She sights a Bird—she chuckles— She flattens—then she crawls— She runs without the look of feet— Her eyes increase to Balls— Her Jaws stir—twitching—hungry— Her Teeth can hardly stand— She leaps, but Robin leaped the first— Ah, Pussy, of the Sand, The Hopes so juicy ripening— You almost bather your Tongue— When Bliss disclosed a hundred Toes— And fled with every one—
