Each that we lose takes part of us;
A crescent still abides,
Which like the moon, some turbid night,
Is summoned by the tides.
Dickinson died on this day in 1886. To commemorate her death, I thought I'd share this little sketch I made of objects left on her gravestone: stones, notes, a saint's medallion, flower trim, a cigarette, an artificial candle ...
If you're in the vicinity of Amherst, Massachusetts, don't miss the annual Emily Dickinson Poetry Walk on Saturday. It starts at her home at 2 p.m. and continues around town to places of significance in her life, with a traditional toast at the gravesite in West Cemetery. Would you like to read from her poems? Arrive at 1:45 p.m. to sign up.
Rain is in the forecast for Saturday, so bring your umbrella!