I smile, of course,
And go on drinking tea.
“Yet with these April sunsets, that somehow recall
My buried life, and Paris in the Spring,
I feel immeasurably at peace, and find the world
To be wonderful and youthful, after all.”
— from T.S. Eliot’s “Portrait of a Lady”
I am fairly sure that Eliot did not have a virtual avatar sipping virtual tea in mind when he wrote those lines, but what better to offer as an apology for my own silence than words from one of the greatest poets who ever lived?
It has been an introspective couple of days.
Writing from: a vanilla-scented lounge (thanks, Ikea candle). Listening to: “Trans Fatty Acid” by Lamb.