Do The Hardest Thing On Earth For

Yes, My Mother's Death Is A Terrible Sorrow To Me. I Feel - Do You Know What I Mean - The Silence Of It So. She Was More Alive Than Anyone I Have Ever Known.

I'm A Writer First And A Woman After.

I Really Only Have Perfect Fun With Myself. Other People Won't Stop And Look At The Things I Want To Look At Or, If They Do, They Stop To Please Me Or To Humor Me Or To Keep The Peace.

What Happiness It Is To Listen To Rain At Night; Joyful Relief, Ease; A Lapping-round And Hushing And Brooding Tenderness, All Are Mingled Together In The Sound Of The Fast-falling Rain. God, Looking Down Upon The Rainy Earth, Sees How Faint Are These Lights Shining In Little Windows, - How Easily Put Out.

The Fields Are Snowbound No Longer; There Are Little Blue Lakes And Flags Of Tenderest Green. The Snow Has Been Caught Up Into The Sky- So Many White Clouds-and The Blue Of The Sky Is Cold. Now The Sun Walks In The Forest, He Touches The Bows And Stems With His Golden Fingers; They Shiver, And Wake From Slumber. Over The Barren Branches He Shakes His Yellow Curls. Yet Is The Forest Full Of The Sound Of Tears.... A Wind Dances Over The Fields. Shrill And Clear The Sound Of Her Waking Laughter, Yet The Little Blue Lakes Tremble And The Flags Of Tenderest Green Bend And Quiver.