National Poetry Month

Here is a poem I know by heart, by Emily Dickinson.

We grow accustomed to the Dark –

When light is put away –

As when the Neighbor holds the Lamp

To witness her Goodbye -- 

A Moment -- We uncertain step

For newness of the night –

Then -- fit our Vision to the Dark –

And meet the Road -- erect -- 

And so of larger -- Darkness –

Those Evenings of the Brain –

When not a Moon disclose a sign –

Or Star -- come out -- within -- 

The Bravest -- grope a little –

And sometimes hit a Tree

Directly in the Forehead –

But as they learn to see -- 

Either the Darkness alters –

Or something in the sight

Adjusts itself to Midnight –

And Life steps almost straight.