Drove along, he did.

Because I could not stop for Death –
He kindly stopped for me –

Emily Dickinson

Stopped for Em, but not for me.

I tried…
Flagged him down
Stood in the road
Flung myself under the hooves

Drove along, he did.

No “kindly” stop for me.

But then,
Death does not operate
a taxi service,
does he?

He doesn’t come
when you call

usually.

He comes when you are ready,

And I guess I wasn’t.

Am not.

Yet.



This is the “early bird” prompy for #NaPoWriMo22 (National Poetry Writing Month 2022):

Dickinson is known for her elliptical style, unusual word choices, and mordant sense of humor. Over the past year, I’ve experimented with writing poems based on, or responding to, various lines from her poems. Today, I’d like to challenge you to do the same! 

Yes, it’s already April 2. I’m behind. Just like death, sometimes.

cue “mordant sense of humor“…

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