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 for fear
The numbers fuse
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’s yours and mine should be
I would toss it yonder like a rind
And take eternity
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’s yours and mine should be
I would toss it yonder like a rind
And take eternity
But now uncertain of
The length of this
That is between it goads me
Like the Goblin Bee
That will not state its sting