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
