On being collected mid-errand
“Because I could not stop for Death, he kindly stopped for me.”
The manners are the strange part. Death arrives as a courteous caller who has noticed you were too busy, and waits while you put your things down.
Dickinson gets at something no argument reaches: it will not be scheduled, and it will not be earned by readiness. The politeness in the line is not comfort. It is the recognition that the interruption comes on its own terms, to a life that was in the middle of something.