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- POEM: If You Were Coming in the Fall by Emily Dickenson
- 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.
- If certain, when this life was out—
- That yours and mine, should be—
- I’d 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.
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