|APRIL is the cruellest month, breeding|
|Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing|
|Memory and desire, stirring|
|Dull roots with spring rain.|
|Winter kept us warm, covering||5|
|Earth in forgetful snow, feeding|
|A little life with dried tubers.|
|Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee|
|With a shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade,|
|And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten,||10|
And drank coffee, and talked for an hour.
So begins TS Eliots' The Waste Land.
I am not much of a coffee drinker but I have been known to talk for an extended time and I am looking forward to some conversations on this month's topic over on the blog Synergy. So click on over there and join the conversation!
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