Further Poems of Emily Dickinson/If he were living—dare I ask?
IF he were living—dare I ask?
And how if he were dead?
And so around the words I went
Of meeting them afraid.
And how if he were dead?
And so around the words I went
Of meeting them afraid.
I hinted changes, lapse of time,
The surfaces of years
I touched with caution, lest they slit
And show me to my fears.
The surfaces of years
I touched with caution, lest they slit
And show me to my fears.
Reverted to adjoining lives
Adroitly turning out
Wherever I suspected graves—
'Twas prudenter, I thought.
Adroitly turning out
Wherever I suspected graves—
'Twas prudenter, I thought.
And He—I rushed with sudden force
In face of the suspense—
"Was buried"—"Buried!"
"He!"
My life just holds the trench.
In face of the suspense—
"Was buried"—"Buried!"
"He!"
My life just holds the trench.