|Mark E. Gunnison||www.MGCPA.com|
It is ironic that the following poem comes closer to anything I have ever read in describing what it feels like to loose a spouse. The poem is read during the funeral seen in the movie "Three Weddings and a Funeral" - the first movie Lyudmila and I saw together on one of our first dates.
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put cr�pe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;W.H. Auden.
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
I do not agree with the author's outlook on the future. However, the feeling of the poem comes close to how it feels to have lost Lyudmila. It has now been a year and a half since I lost her and my hart still cries.