If You Were Coming in the Fall

So I'm not a huge poetry person, but there are a few that I just love. I was looking through Emily Dickinson poems tonight and though I would share one of my favorites with you. I just love how smoothly it all runs. Also, look up "Death is counted sweetest" and "Hope is the thing with feathers."  Okay, here it is:

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.