By the last few times we saw her it was clear

    That things were different. When you tried to help her

    Get out of the car or get from the car to the door

    Or across the apartment house hall to the elevator

    There was a new sense of heaviness

    Or of inertia in the body. It wasn't

    That she was less willing to be helped to walk

    But that the walking itself had become less willing.

    Maybe the stupid demogorgon blind

    Recalcitrance of body， resentful of the laws

    Of mind and spirit， was getting its own back now，

    Or maybe a new and subtle， alien，

    Intelligence of body was obedient now

    To other laws： "Weight is the measure of

    The force with which a body is drawn downward

    To the center of the earth"； "Inertia is

    The tendency of a body to resist

    Proceeding to its fate in any way

    Other than that determined for itself."

    That evening， at the Bromells' apartment， after

    She had been carried up through the rational structure

    By articulate stages， floor after flashing floor，

    And after we helped her get across the hall，

    And get across the room to a chair， somehow

    We got her seated in a chair that was placed

    A little too far away from the nearest table，

    At the edge of the abyss， and there she sat，

    Exposed， her body the object of our attention——

    The heaviness of it， the helpless graceless leg，

    The thick stocking， the leg brace， the medical shoe.

    At work between herself and us there was

    A new principle of social awkwardness

    And skillfulness required of each of us.

    Our tones of voice in this easy conversation

    Were instruments of marvelous finesse，

    Measuring and maintaining with exactitude

    "The fact or condition of the difference

    There was between us， both in space and time."

    Her smiling made her look as if she had

    Just then tasted something delicious， the charm

    Her courtesy attributed to her friends.

    This decent elegant fellow human being

    Was seated in virtue， character， disability，

    Behind her the order of the ranged bookshelves，

    The windows monitored by Venetian blinds——

    "These can be raised or lowered； numerous slats，

    Horizontally arranged， and parallel，

    Which can be tilted so as to admit

    Precisely the desired light or air."

    We were all her friends， Maggie， and Bill， and Anne，

    And I， and the nice Boston Brahmin elderly man

    Named Duncan， utterly friendly and benign.

    And of course it wasn't whether or not the world

    Was benign but whether it looked at her too much.

    She wasn't "painfully shy" but just the same

    I wouldn't be surprised if there had been

    Painfulness in her shyness earlier on，

    Say at dancing school. Like others， though， she had

    Survived her childhood somehow. Nor do I mean

    She was unhappy. Maybe more or less so

    Before her marriage. One had the sense of trips

    Arranged， committees， concerts， baffled courage

    Living it through， giving it order and style.

    And one had the sense of the late marriage as of

    Two bafflements inventing the sense they made

    Together. The marriage seemed， to the outside world，

    And probably was， radiant and triumphant，

    And I think that one could almost certainly say

    That during the last， heroic， phase of things，

    After his death， and after the stroke， she had

    By force of character and careful management，

    Maintained a certain degree of happiness.

    The books there on the bookshelves told their stories，

    Line after line， all of them evenly spaced，

    And spaces between the words. You could fall through the spaces.

    In one of the books Dr. Johnson told the story：

    "In the scale of being， wherever it begins，

    Or ends， there are chasms infinitely deep；

    Infinite vacuities. . .For surely，

    Nothing can so disturb the passions， or

    Perplex the intellects of man so much，

    As the disruption of this union with

    Visible nature， separation from all

    That has delighted or engaged him， a change

    Not only of the place but of the manner

    Of his being， an entrance into a state

    Not simply which he knows not， but perhaps

    A state he has not faculties to know."

    The dinner was delicious， fresh greens， and reds，

    And yellows， produce of the season due，

    And fish from the nearby sea； and there were also

    Ashes to be eaten， and dirt to drink.