Poem 465

by

Emily Dickinson


I heard a Fly buzz--when I died--

The Stillness in the Room

Was like the Stillness in the Air--

Between the Heaves of Storm--


The Eyes around--had wrung them dry--

And Breaths were gathering firm

For that last Onset--when the King

Be witnessed--in the Room--


I willed my Keepsakes--Signed away

What portion of me be--

Assignable--and then it was

There interposed a Fly--


With Blue--uncertain stumbling Buzz--

Between the light--and me--

And then the Windows failed--and then--

I could not see to see--


(1862)



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