I’ll tell you how the sun rose, a ribbon at a time. The steeples swam in amethyst, The news like squirrels ran. The hills untied their bonnets, The bobolinks begun. Then I said softly to myself, “That must have been the sun!
EMILY DICKINSON
Heart, we will forget him, You and I, tonight! You must forget the warmth he gave, I will forget the light.
