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I first surmised the horses' heads


Ezra stalks the dunes. Marion Bay. August 2013.

I'll stop for Death, I reckon.

Because I could not stop for Death, Emily Dickenson

Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.
We slowly drove, he knew no haste,
And I had put away
My labor, and my leisure too,
For his civility.

We passed the school, where children strove
At recess, in the ring;
We passed the fields of gazing grain,
We passed the setting sun.

Or rather, he passed us;
The dews grew quivering and chill,
For only gossamer my gown,
My tippet only tulle.

We paused before a house that seemed
A swelling of the ground;
The roof was scarcely visible,
The cornice but a mound.

Since then 'tis centuries, and yet each
Feels shorter than the day
I first surmised the horses' heads
Were toward eternity.

Comments

Dina said…
A haunting poem and a mysterious photo. Thanks for both.
Kris McCracken said…
Cheers. Ezra in the dunes is always good.

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