Sunday, August 3, 2014
Krisite was a good friend of mine in high school. I found her to be fun loving, kind and big hearted.
A poem for Kristie's memory by WH. Auden
Stop all the clocks,cut off the telephone,prevent the dog from barking with a nice juicy bone,silence the pianos and with a muffled drum bring out the coffin,let the mourners come. Let the airplanes circle moaning overhead scribbling on the sky the message She is Dead. Put crepe bows round the white necks of 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 come to any good." (W. H. Auden
RIP dear friend.
204 Eagle Street
