She Would Live Now, Not Read.

This Is The Day Of Wonders. The Land Is Covered With Trees Like A Head With Hair And Behind The Ship The Sun Rises Tipping The Top Trees With Light. The Sky Is Clear And Shining As A China Plate And The Water Playfully Ruffled With Wind. Every Wisp Of Fog Is Gone And The Air Is Full Of The Resinous Smell Of The Trees. Seabirds Are Flashing Above The Sails Golden Like Creatures From Heaven, But The Sailors Raise A Few Shots To Keep Them From The Rigging.

Pots Can Show Malice, The Patterns Of Linoleum Can Leer Up At You, Treachery Is The Other Side Of Dailiness.

She Was Learning, Quite Late, What Many People Around Her Appeared To Have Known Since Childhood That Life Can Be Perfectly Satisfying Without Major Achievements.

In Your Life There Are A Few Places, Or Maybe Only The One Place, Where Something Happened, And Then There Are All The Other Places.

I Would ... Go Up To The Mailbox And Sit In The Grass, Waiting. ... Till It Came To Me One Day There Were Women Doing This With Their Lives, All Over. There Were Women Just Waiting And Waiting By Mailboxes For One Letter Or Another. I Imagined Me Making This Journey Day After Day And Year After Year, And My Hair Starting To Go Gray, And I Thought, I Was Never Made To Go On Like That. ... If There Were Woman All Through Life Waiting, And Women Busy And Not Waiting, I Knew Which I Had To Be.