𝔼ℚ𝕌𝔸𝕃 ╱ 𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐏𝐒 .

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When I think of her I think of the long summer days     she lay in the sun, how she loved the sun, how we         spread our blanket, and friends came, and the dogs played, and then I would get restless and     get up and go off to the woods         and the fields, and the afternoon would soften gradually and finally I would come     home, through the long shadows, and into the house         where she would be my glorious welcoming, tan and hungry and ready to tell     the hurtless gossips of the day and how I         listened leisurely while I put around the room flowers in jars of water—     daisies, butter-and-eggs, and everlasting—         until like our lives they trembled and shimmered             everywhere.