I awake at 6am. It is dark.
Did I sleep? I don’t know.
I look outside and find
A faded watery dawn.
Eventually
Pale light filters through a syrupy fog.
A weak promise of a sunrise.

I see the ghost tree and it looks different
Than it did before.
My state is altered. Nothing is the same.
In slow motion, I take a shower.
I wash my hair. I put on make-up.
I get dressed. I am a robot.

We drive through a frozen, white world.
It is quiet. There’s nothing to say.
The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe,
I think to myself.
We arrive and enter the church.
Noise and reality slice through my brain.

We sit. We stand. We pray. We sing.
Many are weeping.
I stand and float to the front.
And look up to a sea of sad faces.

I begin to read,

“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. ”

“He was my North, my South … ”

I continue to the end,

“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.”

And float to my seat.

A slow, silent ripping of reality, separates time.

An ending and a beginning –

An ending of you – of us.

A beginning of life without you

Entering a life
Of dreams and memories.

—

From February 17, 2006