Meditações - Who told me time would ease me of my pain!

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.

Edna St. Vincent Millay