Read the excerpt from "Pilgrimage.” At the museum, we marvel at their clothes— preserved under glass—so much smaller than our own, as if those who wore them were only children. We sleep in their beds, the old mansions hunkered on the bluffs, draped in flowers—funereal—a blur of petals against the river’s gray. The brochure in my room calls this living history. The brass plate on the door reads Prissy’s Room . A window frames The river’s crawl toward the Gulf. In my dream, The ghost of history lies down beside me, rolls over, pins me beneath a heavy arm. What does this excerpt express about the impact of the past on the present?