Emily Dickinson

If He Were Living dare I Ask

poem 734

If He were living dare I ask And how if He be 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 crack And show me to my fears Reverted to adjoining Lives Adroitly turning out Wherever I suspected Graves ‘Twas prudenter I thought And He I pushed with sudden force In face of the Suspense Was buried Buried! He! My Life just holds the Trench

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