There is a halt where sea and sun appear,
There is a halt where both the worlds appear,
And the last halt—an autumn long drawn out—
Where past and future as a dream appear.
by Emily Dickinson
We grow accustomed to the Dark —
When light is put away —
As when the Neighbor holds the Lamp
To witness her Goodbye —
A Moment — We uncertain step
For newness of the night —