We do not play on Graves –
Because there isn't Room –
Besides – it isn't even – it slants
And People come –

And put a Flower on it –
And hang their faces so –
We're fearing that their Hearts will drop –
And crush our pretty play –

And so we move as far
As Enemies – away –
Just looking round to see how far
It is – Occasionally –

(poem by Emily Dickinson; photograph of Emily Dickinson's tombstone taken in Amherst, Massachusetts, August 2004; see also RobertFrostTrail (10 Aug 2004), ...)

TopicPoetry - TopicProfiles - TopicLiterature - 2004-11-11

(correlates: PoeticLines, WindToThyWings, 2004-08-04 - Eight Eight-Eighties, ...)