Because I could not stop for death He kindly stopped for me; The carriage held but just ourselves And immortality We drove slowly, he knew no haste, And I had put away My labour, and my leisure too, For his civility. We passed the school, where children strove At recess, in the ring; We passed the fields of gazing grain, We passed the setting sun Or rather, he passed us; The dews grew quivering and chill, For only gossamer my gown, My tippet only tulle. We passed before a house that seemed A swelling of the ground; The roof was scarcely visible, The cornice but a mound Since then 'tis centuries, and yet each Feels shorter than the day I first surmised the horses' heads Were toward eternity. A poem by Emily Dickinson.

Thank you for setting up this memorial to Keith. We hope that you find it a positive experience developing the site and that it becomes a place of comfort and inspiration for you to visit whenever you want or need to.

I am I and you are you, whatever we were to each other that we still are. Speak to me in the easy way which you always used. Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? Life means all that it ever meant, it is the same as it ever was.