Stop all the Clocks, Cut of the Telephone

Clearly this piece was about grief of a loved one or more specifically a partner. I had several waves of reaction to three line, “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;, (lines 9-11).” First I thought how beautiful this description of love is but soon after I asked myself if any one person should meet that description for another. I then felt sad for the narrator, to place so much in one person. Not long after I had my third reaction. This poem tells of a new grief, one that is not rational. When we begin the grieving process everything seems larger then it is. In the beginning of such a large loss we can’t imagine life without our loved ones but as each day goes by we find our strength. So after my rollercoaster of emotions, I think this poem describes the beginning phase of grief perfectly.