Our rooftops

I just looked out of the small side window and saw this. It’s half-ten and still light in the east, I wonder what time it will go dark at Land’s End.

I love those chimney pots, whatever time of year it is and whatever the weather they remind me of this from Eliot’s Preludes:

The winter evening settles down
With smell of steaks in passageways.
Six o’clock.
The burnt-out ends of smoky days.
And now a gusty shower wraps
The grimy scraps
Of withered leaves about your feet
And newspapers from vacant lots;
The showers beat
On broken blinds and chimneypots,
And at the corner of the street
A lonely cab-horse steams and stamps.
And then the lighting of the lamps.

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5 Responses to Our rooftops

  1. Al says:

    Very evocative. The last line makes me think of the lights along the Embankment in Winter. A wonderful sight.

  2. makemeadiva says:

    And at the corner of the street
    A lonely cab-horse steams and stamps.

    I love that – reminds me of Ginger in Black Beauty.

    Off the Page on R4 1.30 today is worth a listen again re poetry if anyone missed it.

  3. OS says:

    I used to light those lamps. Fame at last!

    M. le etc…

  4. Stephen Foster says:

    No one is more famous than you.

    Great stuff isn’t it.

  5. calvininjax says:

    Black Beauty, now there’s a tail.

    It had me in tears at the end when I read it as a youngster.

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