467 <br /> <br />We do not play on Graves— <br />Because there isn't Room— <br />Besides—it isn't even—it slants <br />And People come— <br /> <br />And put a Flower on it— <br />And hang their faces so— <br />We're fearing that their Hearts will drop— <br />And crush our pretty play— <br /> <br />And so we move as far <br />As Enemies—away— <br />Just looking round to see how far <br />It is—Occasionally—<br /><br />Emily Dickinson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/we-do-not-play-on-graves/
