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If the water forms the forms of the weeds, there— a long life is not by that a necessarily happy one. My friend. We reckon on a simple agreement, the fashion of a stone underground.
From The Collected Poems of Robert Creeley (University of California Press, 2006). Copyright © 2006 by the Estate of Robert Creeley. Reprinted by permission of the publisher.
for Kate
Round and round
again, and
up and down
again—always
these days do
go by, and
this one is yours
to go by.
This walking on
and on, this
going and coming—
this morning
shines such lovely
light on
all of us.
We’re home.
The honor
of being human
will stay constant.
The earth, earth,
water wet, sun
shine.
The world will be
as ever round, and
all yourselves
will know it,
on it, and around
and around.
No one knows
what will
happen. That
for Sarah
Pretension has it
you can’t
get back
what’s gone by.
Yet I don’t believe it.
The sky
in this place
stays here
and the sun
comes, or goes
and comes again,
on the same day.