Emily Dickinson

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 played,

Their lessons scarcely done;
We passed the fields of gazing grain,
We passed the setting sun.

We paused before a house that seemed

A swelling of the ground;
The roof was scarcely visible,
The cornice but a mound.

Since then 't is centuries; but each

Feels shorter than the day
I first surmised the horses' heads
Were toward eternity.

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By : Robert P. Tristram Coffin

Someone whom no man can see

is lighting candles in the tree.

Star by star, on every bough

There is a taper burning now.

Quietly, the forest through,

Eyes are lit up, two by two.

The silky moles and velvet mice

Have eyes as sharp as cracks in ice.

Dark-lanterns of the owls begin

To burn like emeralds and sin.

The raccoon built of hidden wire

Prowls by the glow of his brain-fire.

Herons stand as still as years

And see the fish swim through their tears.

All the creatures of the night

Are busy being their own light.

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