<dickinson's "he fumbles at your soul"> 2003-07-19.10:07 p.m. He Fumbles at Your Soul Emily Dickinson He fumbles at your Soul As Players at the Keys Before they drop full Music on-- He stuns you by degrees-- Prepares your brittle Nature For the Ethereal Blow By fainter Hammers--further heard-- Then nearer--Then so slow Your Breath has time to straighten-- Your Brain--to bubble Cool-- Deals--One--imperial--Thunderbolt-- That scalps your naked Soul-- When Winds take Forests in their Paws-- The Universe--is still-- back /& forth /& frosting names are often sad