Dreams in the dusk,Only dreams closing the dayAnd with the day's close going backTo the gray things, the dark things.The far, deep things of dreamland.Dreams, only dreams in the dusk,Only the old remembered picturesOf lost days when the day's lossWrote in tears the heart's loss.Tears and loss and broken dreamsMay find your heart at dusk.
We talked as Girls do --Fond, and late --We speculated fair, on every subject, but the Grave --Of ours, none affair --We handled Destinies, as cool --As we -- Disposers -- be --And God, a Quiet PartyTo our Authority --But fondest, dwelt upon OurselfAs we eventual -- be --When Girls to Women, softly raisedWe -- occupy -- Degree --We parted with a contractTo cherish, and to writeBut Heaven made both, impossibleBefore another night.
I am not the black cat.There were four of us;my grandmother,a black cat,a myth,and I.My grandmother oftentold us a myth.When you are ill, she said,if a black catcomes and sits on your bedit means that youwill die soon.I was only six,seriously ill.Our black cat