I was reading The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock aloud.
As one does.
Wrapped in an old blanket
Against the cold
Because ComEd sent me an email
Telling me I used more electricity
This week than last
So I turned the heat down to 65
And shivered all day
But where was I? Right
Reading T.S. Elliott as night
Fell with a glass of wine at my elbow
On my father’s little end table
Next to my mother’s old chair
That recently found its way back to me
(You can read about that elsewhere)
Where was I? Right-the wine
And the blanket
And the poem and I’m
Really getting into it
(It’s a long poem and full of imagery
That I can only sigh at
Even though I don’t fully understand it)
But where was I? Right- the cold
My arm in the tangle
Of the blanket
At this phrasing:
If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,
And I tugged
And sent the wine spraying
All over my two-day new rug.

with thanks to T.S.Elliot,
written for the dverse prompt of 1/28/21: first lines
and #1 of The Four Crises cycle: Climate

18 thoughts on “Christening

  1. That’s a great opening line, Xan. I haven’t read that poem for a while, and not aloud. I love the rambling stream of consciousness, the conversational tone, as if you’re talking to me. I know what it’s like being wrapped up in a blanket when the heat is low. Shame about the wine on the new rug – something else I can identify with!

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