by Emily Dickinson
610
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-
Last updated June 21, 2015