If You Were Coming In The Fall

if you were coming in the fall, i`d brush the summer by with half a smile and half a spum, as housewives do a fly. if i could see you in a year, i`d wind the months in balls, and put them each in separate drawers, until their time befalls. if only centuries delayed, i`d count them on my hand, subtracting till my fingers dropped into Van Diemen`s Iand. if certain, when this life was out, that yours and mine should be, i`d toss it yonder like a rind, and taste eternity. but now, all ignorant of the length of time`s uncertain wing, it goads me, like the goblin bee, that will not state its sting.