Over the River, My Darling - these words, evocative, mysterious and sad, wrought in marble called out to me in the warm, still air of Oakwood Cemetery. I drew near. An image, two hands, clasped, and I am struck by a sense of reaching, an impossible distance- over the river. Yet these hands touch. They seemed to me a projection, an act of divination, this image, these words carved in cold stone, calling out to the Beloved to bridge the Gap Eternal, a vessel in word-form set wi