Some thoughts experimental regarding or respecting immanent circumstances (is that the right word?) seem proper since I don’t know what to think about my sister getting married. The usual perrogatives present themselves; e.g., many best wishes and hopes for the future, like unnamed ships in the vagabond sea. We know too little, I think, to justify my ignorance, out of touch with her desires. What is the motion of her introspective considerations? When is her love abiding? Where is the test, the verve, the measure of? Who can say? At this distance it’s always 2 A.M. upon the dawn.
5 May 1977