V. UNDERSTANDING

Now, when I stand in some great crowded place,

I see the souls of other women stare

Out of their eyes — And I can glimpse the care

And worry that has banished light and grace

From every life. Upon each woman-face

I see the mark of tears, the hint of prayer

That, one short year ago, had not been there —

I see what time will never quite erase!

Before you left, I did not notice eyes —

Because I knew that I might touch your hand,

I did not dream the dread that swept our land...

Ah, dear, the months have made me very wise!

Now, one with everything, I understand,

And heart meets heart and I can sympathize.