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    poetry,  Uncategorized

    The Chariot

    The Chariot, by Emily Dickinson, originally published in 1890, is a poem I thought about in my novel, The Square Grand.  One stanza makes an appearance, as one of my characters, Isabella, remembers the poem as she thinks about her heritage, gone and irrevocably altered by small pox. THE CHARIOT Because I could not stop for Death, He kindly stopped for me; The carriage held but just ourselves And Immortality. We slowly drove, he knew no haste, And I had put away My labor, and my leisure too, For his civility. We passed the school where children played, Their lessons scarcely done; We passed the fields of gazing grain, We passed the setting…

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