@chowleen Text in image:

"Friday I tasted life. It was a vast morsel. A circus passed the house —still I feel the red in my mind though the drums are out.

The book you mention, I have not met. Thank you for tenderness.

The lawn is full of south and the odors tangle, and I hear to-day for the first the river in the tree.

You mentioned spring’s delaying —I blamed her for the opposite. I would eat evanescence slowly.

Vinnie is deeply afflicted in the death of her dappled cat, though I convince her it is immortal which assists her some. Mother resumes lettuce, involving my transgression —suggestive of yourself, however, which endears disgrace.

'House' is being 'cleaned.' I prefer pestilence. That is more classic and less fell."

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