This evening my morning smile has not vanished as I check the edge of the street, the passers-by, the level of the roofs, a corner of the courtyard below. Another 3 weeks at least before we can inhabit the new space. How much longer can I wait?
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
morning at the window
This morning before I hit the road in the direction of school, I thought about Eliot’s poem Morning at the Window. I looked out over my townscape, my new vista. A smile emerged, then hovered all day.
This evening my morning smile has not vanished as I check the edge of the street, the passers-by, the level of the roofs, a corner of the courtyard below. Another 3 weeks at least before we can inhabit the new space. How much longer can I wait?
This evening my morning smile has not vanished as I check the edge of the street, the passers-by, the level of the roofs, a corner of the courtyard below. Another 3 weeks at least before we can inhabit the new space. How much longer can I wait?
