Death Sets a Thing

[English is mine]

Death sets a thing significant
The eye had hurried by,
Except a perished creature
Entreat us tenderly

To ponder little workmanships
In crayon or in wool,
With "This was last her fingers did,"
Industrious until

The thimble weighed too heavy,
The stitches stopped themselves,
And then 't was put among the dust
Upon the closet shelves.
A book I have, a friend gave,
Whose pencil, here and there,
Had notched the place that pleased him,--
At rest his fingers are.

Now, when I read, I read not,
For interrupting tears
Obliterate the etchings
Too costly for repairs.

[BloumagrieT]

English is mine

Thank you for sharing with us

this deep poem

Wlecome to the club brother

[DIMPLES]

thaaaaaaaaaaanx alot

[English is mine]

your much welcome brothers it a honor to be here