Death

It seems like we talk about death a lot in literature classes, especially when covering authors like Emily Dickinson, Sylvia Plath and Edgar Allen Poe.  At first it is somewhat creepy or dark that some authors are so fixated on death.  At a closer look; however, it is not as creepy as you would think.  Death is always around us whether we know it or not.  People, animals, objects are constantly dying.  Every year fall comes around and kills all plantation until the rebirth in the spring.  We are so accustomed to death that we hardly realize that it is happening.  These authors are simply writing about what is happening around them, to them and to everyone else.  We are not timid to accept love poems or nature poems but we are reluctant to accept death poems. Maybe this is because we fear the thought of death.