You'll find -- it when you try to die -- by Emily Dickinson
You'll find -- it when you try to die -- The Easier to let go -- For recollecting such as went -- You could not spare -- you know.
And though their places somewhat filled -- As did their Marble names With Moss -- they never grew so full -- You chose the newer names --
And when this World -- sets further back -- As Dying -- say it does -- The former love -- distincter grows -- And supersedes the fresh --
And Thought of them -- so fair invites -- It looks too tawdry Grace To stay behind -- with just the Toys We bought -- to ease their place --
|