If you were coming in the fall

By Emily Dickinson

If you were coming in the fall, 
I ’d brush the summer by 
With half a smile and half a spurn, 
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 land. 
 
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.        

...............................................................

under lock and key.