Angels and Women (1924)

Second Moon.
O
CHANGE
TIME of grief and loss l O days and
nights of woe l O dumb and lifeless
hours l Is this the happy valley where my
youth was passed? I seem aged now. The
cypresses are black like funeral yews; their
shade is darkness, and yet the light of day is
hateful to my eyes, dim with weeping. O
that I could find the gravel My mother
mourns, but not with deep sorrow. In her
soft eyes is no retrospective glance, but a
gentle light like coming day.
How shall I recover the broken thread of
my story? How make up the calendar of
sorrow marked by the dial as ten suns only,
but weighted with the woe of years? Yet
this journal, lightly begun at the suggestion
of my beloved father, must be continued as a
sacred duty.
As we stepped upon the boat made ready
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