“These communications across the sea,
but for once you were almost buoyant—
phone-conversations get so screwed … I wish
I had your lovely letter in my hand
delivered to me by the stately Alex
just the minute you hung up. I’m off
to Dalton to pick up Harriet’s grades and record—
it is frightening to be a soul,
marked in the Book of Judgment once a month,
because you haven’t lived much, and are alive.
Things go on, Pained Heart, another month is gone.…
She stayed up talking to us all last night,
giving three brainy women back their blast.
Age is nice … if that’s your age … thirteen.”