I found this poem by Lyn Lifshin in a book review:

I can mourn
you, remember when
I first held you, dream
you thru nights
where you’re missing.
But that’s really a
lie. I need more, to
be able to put your name
in a poem and not
apologize for staying
in a week, unable to
see anybody and then
finally on the first day I
join the living, have
someone say at my dark
sadness, ‘‘well we all
have days like that.”