Wednesday, 21 March 2018

This is for remembrance

For World Poetry Day...  a sad sonnet by Edna St Vincent Millay (1892 - 1950).

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.


For some reason this has really struck a chord with me.

2 comments:

Ruth said...

That's so very lovely.

Barbara Eads said...

With the recent passing of my brother, I can totally relate to this lovely poem.