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
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-02-time-does-not-bring-relief-you-all-hav/