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| photo by celia g. |
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 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.Written by: Emily Dickinson
"Night Dance" by Adam Hurst, Cello & Guitar
