Photographs by Francesca Woodman
Evening Sun by Jane Kenyon
Why does this light force me back
to my childhood? I wore a yellow
summer dress, and the skirt
made a perfect circle.
Turning and turning
until it flared to the limit
was irresistible . . . . The grass and trees,
my outstretched arms, and the skirt
whirled in the ochre light
of an early June evening.
And I knew then
that I would have to live,
and go on living: what sorrow it was;
and still what sorrow ignites
but does not consume my heart.
Image source: Marion Goodman Gallery
Poem Source: Poetry Magazine