Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Edna
Time does not bring relief; you all have liedwho 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 snow melt from every mountain-side;
and last year's leaves are smoke on 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.
XOXOXOXOXOXO
by anonymous
Labels: poems
