If He were living—dare I ask—

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—

   -F719, J734, Fascicle 35, 1863


This poem uses suspense to get across a depth of feeling and grief. We are suspended, with the speaker, for three stanzas, dancing around the fact of the matter, and then, with sudden force, we push and fall into the chasm, or, in this case, the trench. 

The poem presupposes a social situation. The speaker is visiting with friends she has not seen for awhile and inquiring about a mutual friend, to find out if he is still living. Though we have very condensed poetic language here, the poem still reads prosaically. It’s a short scene, a very brief one act play. Let’s play it out in prose:

    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 dared to ask if he was still living. But how could I possibly ask whether or not he was dead? I was afraid to find out, so I danced around the words. I couldn't just directly ask."

    I hinted Changes—Lapse of Time—

    The Surfaces of Years—

    I touched with Caution—lest they crack—

    And show me to my fears—

"Instead I just hinted, asking my guests about what was new in their lives (hinted changes), and about how long its been since we last met (lapse of time). The actual events of the years (Surfaces), I didn’t bring up, just in case it revealed to me my fears." (The surface of the years would then crack and reveal a timeless abyss).

    Reverted to adjoining Lives—

    Adroitly turning out

    Wherever I suspected Graves—

    'Twas prudenter—I thought—

"Instead I reverted to talking about other friends we knew, and adroitly changed the direction of the conversation whenever I suspected the conversations might lead to talk of death." 

    And He—I pushed—with sudden force—

    In face of the Suspense—

    "Was buried"—"Buried"! "He!"

    My Life just holds the Trench—

"Finally I couldn’t stand it anymore, I had to know, so I just pushed ahead with sudden force and asked, “And he…?” And my host finished the sentence with, “was buried.” What? Buried! Him! Now there is a hole in me, a trench. My life carries the place where He was buried. The hole in my heart is the hole he was buried in."

That’s it, a unique poem that is imagining, or recalling, the terrible moment of learning about the death of someone not seen for a long time. It is a poem that builds suspense, echoing the suspense that the speaker is feeling, and then lowers the boom. He’s dead. The very thing the speaker was frightened to find out has been revealed as true. This opens a hole of grief in the heart, a trench, which is a metaphor for the actual hole in the ground in which “He” is buried. 

 "My Life just holds the Trench—"  Because of the built up suspense we feel the crushing weight of this final line of the poem even more. It reminds me of Frank O’hara’s line from his great poem A Step Away from Them, “But is the/ earth as full as life was full, of them?" 

As per usual with Dickinson there is an interesting philosophical twist to this poem. It mirrors Dickinson's indirect approach in her own poetry; telling the truth, but "telling it slant." The speaker avoids direct confrontation with the truth, instead "hinting Changes" and "touching with Caution." This indirectness is a hallmark of Dickinson. Seen this way, this poem may be more about the imagined reader than the poet. In an earlier poem from this same fascicle, F715, just two poems prior to this one, we see a much braver and less reticent speaker facing death. There, the speaker says, "'Tis Dying—I am doing—but I'm not afraid to know—" Of course it is different to face your own death than that of a loved one, but going "around the Words," and "hinting Changes," can be seen as part of Dickinson's M.O.. Read this way, Dickinson is urging the readers, we who are "prudenter" when "suspecting graves," to lose our prudence and just face the music.

The wonder of Dickinson is that you can read a poem such as this one as both fully inhabiting the pain of its revelation, from the first person perspective, and, if you but change the perspective, becoming detached enough in the third person to accept the news with equanimity.

   -/)dam Wade l)eGraff

Mark Rothko, Orange, Navy Blue, No. 14