Page 133 - Writes of Passage

I went home and recited it. My parents found me the book, and I learned, over the next few years, many more of Eliot’s cat poems, which I still remember.
Sleeping compartments on trains are rarer now than they used to be, but I was lucky enough to experience them, and always delighted in the “funny little basin you’re supposed to wash your face in”. And what is especially magical about this poem is that it recreates the rhythm of the train, at two speeds.
It is a soothing rhythm. Having this in my head has got me through scary times, and dentists’ appointments.
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