From Dante Gabriel Rossetti’s House of Life
Sonnet LIII: Without Her
What of the glass without her? The blank grey
There where the pool is blind of the moon’s face.
Her dress without her? The tossed empty space
Of cloud-rack when the moon has passed away.
Her paths without her? Day’s appointed sway
Usurped by desolate night. Her pillowed place
Without her? Tears, ah me! For love’s good grace,
And cold forgetfulness of night or day.
What of the heart without her? Nay, poor heart,
Of thee what word remains ere speech be still?
A wayfarer by barren ways and chill,
Steep ways and weary, without her thou art,
Where the long cloud, the long wood’s counterpart,
Sheds doubled darkness up the labouring hill.
Shared words, shared tears, the last ceremonies of love for all to see, and then the private ceremonies that last a lifetime. I don’t forget that Keith still lives, though, and has kept his promise to me.
I’d say that sums it all up pretty well, Dan. Thanks so very much.
Thank you for kindly valuing the pittance I have to give. Your great generosity has not gone unremarked.
Mike, my deepest condolences to you. It’s one day at a time from here, ok?
You got that right, Pablo. There have been some odd, nearly uncanny things happening here and there over the past few days, things that have made me realize that…well, let’s just say that the foundations of my former agnosticism have been flung down and danced upon. She sees me and knows what’s in my heart even now, and I know that my gratitude for the lovely, generous thoughts that have been sent our way is matched only by her own.
I’ve seen many of those in my own life, Mike. Here’s hoping that knowledge continues to help hold you up. Someday, the sun will shine into your life again and you’ll be glad for it. But for today, you’ve got grieving to do, and there’s no way around it.
My best to you and to everyone who feels the loss of Chrissy.