but it doesn't feel like they are supposed to. My seven year anniversary with my love was on the 28th. I felt it, because I love my love so deeply, but we haven't celebrated yet. And Beltane, the crown of the year, has passed me by as well. I long to be a light-bringer, a blessing on this mother we call earth... but for now, all I feel is in this tearjerker of a poem by Auden.
Funeral BluesStop 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 in the sky the message He is Dead,
Put crêpe 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.