My life, then, hung like a sun-yellow mobile that spun in the heat as I flowed from one end of summer to the other. The songs on the radio were my island. My life as a girl in the years before fences appears in memory slides,oses dressed in the beaches of my youth.
I grew from seeds to roses in the ground of my childhood summers. In the calendar of my life as a young girl every date prefigured you. Day by day, in the years of growing I bought, with the barter of my soul, all the heat and all the music.
Battened by the times before you, strengthened by long storms, hot suns, cold winds, this, then is what I offer you: deep beaches, thornworn roses, summers that flow from one end of your life to the other.