she didn't agree with their solution, so
she was said to 
                misunderstand the problem.

but hers was not a problem of understanding,
- or sympathy -
but rather of an
                 excess
                         of
                              both.

                           for her,
                   only individuals
               had any real meaning,

other things being

                   sort of 
                             hypothetical.

a life can be a welter of confusion,
but a heart pure, as was hers.

she loved her friends
she loved her enemies, and

she loved the autumn because

                    of the smell of 

               fallen leaves and

    wood burning in fireplaces

and

                       new spelling books