I heard a fly buzz when I died; <br />The stillness round my form <br />Was like the stillness in the air <br />Between the heaves of storm. <br /> <br />The eyes beside had wrung them dry, <br />And breaths were gathering sure <br />For that last onset, when the king <br />Be witnessed in his power. <br /> <br />I willed my keepsakes, signed away <br />What portion of me I <br />Could make assignable,--and then <br />There interposed a fly, <br /> <br />With blue, uncertain, stumbling buzz, <br />Between the light and me; <br />And then the windows failed, and then <br />I could not see to see.<br /><br />Emily Dickinson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-heard-a-fly-buzz-when-i-died/
