Time does not bring relief; you all have lied
Who told me time would ease me of my pain!
I miss him in the weeping of the rain;
I want him at the shrinking of the tide;
The old snows melt from every mountain-side,
And last year's leaves are smoke in every lane;
But last year's bitter loving must remain
Heaped on my heart, and my old thoughts abide.
There are a hundred places where I fear
To go - so with his memory they brim.
And entering with relief some quiet place
Where never fell his foot or shone his face
I say, 'There is no memory of him here!'
And so stand stricken, so remembering him.
by Edna St Vincent Millay
(Artwork by E. Blair Leighton)
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4 comments:
Another poet whose work I loved but had fogotten about. Thanks for sharing this one.
Yes, I like her; I know her life was not always edifying, but she captures in this poem the reality that there there no real escape from pain in this world.
Oh yes, I can relate to this. I loved Milay's work when I was a kid.
She really had a gift of expressing emotions.
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