Et bilde funnet på Flickr

(Bildet er funnet på Flikr, lagt ut av Nealy-J)

Her fant jeg et bilde av Emily Dickinsons grav. Hun bodde i Amhearst, Massachusets hele sitt liv, hvor hun puslet i hagen og besøkte naboer. Tilsynelatende var det et rolig og kjedelig liv, men vi som har lest diktene hennes vet at det var mye som foregikk under overflaten.

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 labour, 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 'tis centuries; but each
Feels shorter than the day
I first surmised the horses' heads
Were toward eternity.

(Emily Dickinson)