Funeral Blues
by W. H. Auden
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 crepe 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 forever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
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.
Oh Lori… I’m so sorry. Prayers for you and yours today. <3
What a handsome dude, Lori. So sorry for the loss of your fishing buddy. Godspeed, Francis James Widmer.
So sorry for your loss, Lori. Stay strong. x
Thinking of you and your family, Lori.
My condolences, Lori.
The poem has one glaring inaccuracy. That love WILL last forever. It’s part of you, and part of your children, and in everything you love.
Wishing you and your loved ones peace.
Thank you, everyone. It wasn’t a surprise that it would be happening, but it happened in quick fashion, so we were all left a bit dazed.
I appreciate all who have reached out in various ways, including here. I know many times, people don’t know what to say. Know that anything you say matters. My family and I thank you all.