Let Evening Come: No. 1, Evening Sun

Why does this light force me back to my childhood? I wore a yellow summer dress, and the skirt made a perfect circle.

Turning and turning until it flared to the limit

was irresistible . . . . The grass and trees, my outstretched arms, and the skirt whirled in the ochre light

of an early June evening.

And I knew then that I would have to live,

and go on living: what a sorrow it was; and still what sorrow burns

but does not destroy

my heart.