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 /> 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 /> 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/dying-i-heard-a-fly-buzz-when-i-died/
