Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone

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 for ever: 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.

-W. H. Auden

This poem always makes me cry, but it is a good poem for today. Rhiannon's funeral was this afternoon. I know her family and close friends must be going through so much pain. It's amazing how much love somebody can give to others, and Rhiannon was a great example to everybody. She always had a great smile. It was wonderful to hear people talk about how great she was, and it was an awesome experience to have so many people together to remember.