cbertsch: This is me, reflected in my daughter's eye. (Default)
cbertsch ([personal profile] cbertsch) wrote2005-07-18 08:32 pm

At Last

From "The Wasteland" by T.S. Eliot:
In this decayed hole among the mountains
In the faint moonlight, the grass is singing
Over the tumbled graves, about the chapel
There is the empty chapel, only the wind's home.
It has no windows, and the door swings,
Dry bones can harm no one.
Only a cock stood on the rooftree
Co co rico co co rico
In a flash of lightning. Then a damp gust
Bringing rain
The sense of relief has me senseless. It's finally here in all its awesome power.

Re: I am stealing that photograph above--melancholy icon, what I have to miss.

[identity profile] cbertsch.livejournal.com 2005-07-19 06:38 pm (UTC)(link)
For an excessively dry man he sure knew how to make wetness seem decisively wet. Thanks for the pilfering!