Read the excerpt from "Shout: A Poetry Memoir.” A white glove waved, the guard crouched wings tucked neatly behind her back, eyes all-seeing she wiped my tears and took my hand and led me up the hill again, gold and ruby leaves, farther than I’d dared on my own tiny paws, until we crested and scurried down the other side and the houses changed shape and at the very bottom of the hill stood my new home my mother waiting at the curb. Which word best describes the tone of this excerpt?