Today at 7;15 a.m., the preposee was surprised to see Mac awake saying hi, to her and ready to be dressed, so as usual she put the radio on to give him some music to enjoy while she dressed him. Once he was dressed he sat on the side of the bed, kind of swayed to the music, had his feet going in time, then said I'm tired laid down, and peacefully left ...I didn't get to say goodbye...and at this moment this is how I feel...
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.Auden.
So g'nite..
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