Ash on an old man’s sleeve…….

Ash on an old man’s sleeve

Is all the ash the burnt roses leave.

Dust in the air suspended

Marks the place where a story ended.

Dust inbreathed was a house –

The wall, the wainscot and the mouse.

The death of hope and despair,

This is the death of air

T S Eliot. Four Quartets Little Gidding

Gert is feeling rather melancholy after a performance of Krapps last Tape.

 

 

 

 

15 thoughts on “Ash on an old man’s sleeve…….

      1. That was the bottom part of this post? By the way — there’s now advertising on your page. Do you get a cut? Someone wanted to tell me that popcorn does terrible things to your brain? I didn’t want to hear about it, so didn’t watch.

        1. I think there has always been advertising, but we don’t see it unless we log in as one of the hoi polloi. Is it about popcorn? No profit raked in by Gert – it’s the price you pay for WordPress being free.

    1. For some of us the tone of memory and regret and the echoing footsteps in a dark decaying house have more appeal than those unfortunate creatures staggering up the beach. We did tell you about this. Remember?

      1. You did indeed. We went to St. Kilda’s anyway, on the hypothesis that an evening at the beach couldn’t be all bad. We finally did see one poor thing (only visible in the the red light from someone’s gel-covered flashlight) hop out on the rocks, well after dark. We watched it slip into a crevice, and went to call an Uber to take us back to NewQuay. We also saw lots of interesting people, and the ferry to Tasmania that we will take on our next trip.

      1. So odd to think of that. Freezing rain, on top of an inch of snow. I was waiting for it to get light enough to take photos of the Steller’s Jays coming to eat peanuts, but it’s near twilight soon, and has never gotten truly bright. Nice to know that it’s warm somewhere in the world.

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