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A large poppy fieldI will not insult you by trying to tell you that one day you will forget. I know as well as you that you will not.
But, at least, in time you will not remember as fiercely as you do now - and I pray that that time may be soon.

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Time Does Not Bring Relief

Edna St Vincent Millay

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.

 

 


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