It was a Grave, yet bore no Stone

It was a Grave, yet bore no Stone
Enclosed ’twas not of Rail
A Consciousness it’s Acre, and
It held a Human Soul -

Entombed by whom, for what offense
If Home or Foreign born -
Had I the curiosity
’Twere not appeased of men

Till Resurrection, I must guess
Denied the small desire
A Rose upon it’s Ridge to sow
Or take away a Briar -


    -Fr843, J876, Fascicle 38, 1864


Here follows the 3rd of Anthony Madrid's four commentaries for Prowling Bee:


This one’s riddling. She’s talking about her body. Paraphrase:

It could be considered a grave, though there was no tombstone nor surrounding railing. This grave’s border was the edge of consciousness and sensation. Its tenant was my soul.

Who entombed this soul in this body, and as punishment for what crime (committed on earth or elsewhere)—nobody knows. If I were to ask around, no one could tell me.

I’ll just have to guess, ’til Resurrection, when all questions will be answered. Meantime I’m denied the desire to improve this “gravesite,” either by adornment or by getting rid of bad parts. I’m stuck with it. (Which is the real reason I’m calling it a grave.)

She doesn’t say anything about changing her sex, but the poem easily bears that reading. It could just as easily mean she wanted to grow wings or a tail but couldn’t.

At any rate: Dissatisfaction with the body.


Thank you Anthony. That angle is insightful. Dissatisfaction with the body is something most of us can relate in one way or another. Perhaps in Dickinson's case it was tied in with her physical well-being. I know she was "sickly" through long bouts of her life.

It leaves me with a question though. If the body is the encapsulating "it" of this poem, then why wouldn't the poet be able to adorn it with roses, or soften the sting of the briars with salves?