The poem I decided to write about is by Emily Dickinson #377.
Reading this poem made me think about the only thing that really separates us from the dead is about 6 feet of dirt. which is below the light, the beetle's cellar, and a clover's root. At the end she says "between ourselves and the dead!"
Throughout this poem I imagined being below everything she was talking about, for me it had good visuals.
