Read this poem by Emily Dickinson to the tune of “Gilligan’s Island.”
Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
We slowly drove, he knew no haste,
And I had put away
My labour, 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 sun.
We paused before a house that seemed
A swelling of the ground;
The roof was scarcely visible,
The cornice but a mound.
Since then ’tis centuries; but each
Feels shorter than the day
I first surmised the horses’ heads
Were toward eternity.
Because of this comic from xkcd.com, I will now never read this poem by Emily Dickinson again (hover your mouse over the comic). I invite you to share in my newfound shift in perception. You’re welcome!