If life wasn’t built on lies there might not be much of a world at all. That includes Edna, too. For the public’s acceptance of her poetry, she describes missing a man. When, in fact, it was undoubtedly a woman.
“Life must go on; I forget just why.” Millay.
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.