There was very little Catherine could actually do:
Read a book. Put on jogging clothes and jog down the avenue.
Be slightly useful to a boss; friendly to a friend, or two.
What made Catherine interesting was what Catherine knew.
The important facts of her life were few:
Children, none.
Job, a joke, but at least that meant she could have some fun.
She knew the secret of a wandering star
Of poetry. This is what made her superior by far.
This is what allowed her to seem kind
To a friend—betrayed, because she had been unkind;
She had tried hard to love with her body but had been too angry in her mind.
Catherine learned her friend’s secret and decided to be kind.
When a good secret lives in the head it isn’t that bad to to be blind.
