Dickinson speaks so much of the soul, I’m always pleasantly surprised to hear a mention of the physical in her poetry. In two of the poems for today, she uses organs of the body in a living, breathing way by tying them into Nature and the external world.

Here are the poems back to back, with my targeted analysis below.

The name – of it – is “Autumn” –

The hue – of it – is Blood –

An Artery – opon the Hill –

A Vein – along the Road –

Great Globules – in the Alleys –

And Oh, the Shower of Stain –

When Winds – upset the Basin –

And spill the Scarlet Rain –

It sprinkles Bonnets – far below –

It gathers ruddy Pools –

Then – eddies like a Rose – away –

Opon Vermillion Wheels –

#465

The Brain, within it’s Groove

Runs evenly – and true –

But let a Splinter swerve –

’Twere easier for You –

To put a Current back –

When Floods have slit the Hills –

And scooped a Turnpike for Themselves –

And trodden out the Mills –

#563

My main focus is on the way Dickinson parallels the work that our organs do to keep us alive with the powerful vision she has of nature and its capabilities. In the first poem, #465, she speaks of veins, arteries, blood, and globules – not only mentioning them, but capitalizing them with a degree of reverent importance and focus. One of the captivating moments part of the way through is that you forget she’s talking about human veins and blood – the comparison of these things to alleys and roads loses you in her description of the world outside of our bodies. Dickinson seamlessly connects the act of bleeding to rainfall, the latter of which sustains life and the former indicating a loss of it.

In the second poem, #563, the power of a working brain seems to pale in comparison to the force of a flood, which has “slit” the hills. Here, Dickinson seems almost mocking, saying it would hardly be easier to “put a Current back” than to let something like a “Splinter” ruin the steady workings of the brain. These floods that Dickinson talks about are reminiscent to the “ruddy pools” and bloody rainfall in #465, bringing a parallel between these two poems of these tangible connections regarding the physical biology of blood, the brain, and nature. I’m curious if anyone else has been finding these connections in other poems, or if perhaps you think this would help us to begin answering the question of – where’s the body in Dickinson?

The Biology of Emily Dickinson: This Is My April 1st Work (Emma S.)

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