A little lustrous shadow

When I realised that today would be the second anniversary of Molly's last blip, I was thinking of trying to find a flower for her, but that a day in the office might not yield much. However, when I was standing at the bus stop this morning I noticed the light reflected from the water on to the underside of the Coburg Street bridge and it reminded me of the poem I quoted when I heard of her death. I have linked to a variety of blips that I rooted out from my past favourites and with the help of the search engine. Some of which Molly would have seen and some not, but they would all have delighted her.

And there will be just as rich fruit to cull
And jewels to see;
Nor shall the moon nor the sun be any more dull;
And there will be flowers as fine to pull,
And the rain will be as beautiful -
But not for me.

And there shall be no splendour gone from the vine,
Nor from the tree;
And still in the heavens shall glow Jah's radiant sign,
And the dancing sun on horses' sleek hides shall seem no less fine;
Still shall the car sweep along with as lovely a line -
But not for me.

And men shall cut no less curious things upon brass,
Still sweep the sea;
Nor no little, lustrous shadow upon the sand's mass
Cast by the lilting ripple above shall cease to pass,
And radiance still shall enhalo shadows on moonlit grass -

But not for me.

(After Death, by R.A.K.Mason)

And now it's for Judith, too.