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712

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 drew 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—in the Ground—

Since then—’tis Centuries—and yet
Feels shorter than the Day
I first surmised the Horses’ Heads
Were toward Eternity—
 Mar 2020 Mrs Anybody
Mansi
Lost
 Mar 2020 Mrs Anybody
Mansi
I feel like a
Lost compass
Spinning out of control
Not knowing where
True north is
The AM feeling
Is always something else

Sleep's sirens sing
A story that tells

Of struggles so far away
Merely the break of day

A yawn only heard by me
Not for another to see

My secret respite
So alone but I don't care

Here there is nothing to fight
This is a time and place so rare.
written at 12:36 AM while listening to some good music
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