I Suppose The Best Kind Of Spring

A Loss Of Sensibility Follows A Loss Of Innocence, At Once A Penalty And A Compensation.

Still, Looking Through The Old Volumes Was Soothing, Because Thinking Of The Past Made The Present Seem A Little Less Real.

I Have Really Sinned. I Am Going To Pause Now, And Sit Here On The Mound Repenting In Deepest Shame.

Only The Margin Left To Write On Now. I Love You, I Love You, I Love You.

Was I The Only Woman In The World Who, At My Age - And After A Lifetime Of Quite Rampant Independence - Still Did Not Quite Feel Grown Up?