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.
Through his work with the Black Mountain Review and his own critical writings, Robert Creeley helped to define an emerging counter-tradition to the literary establishment.
Date Published: 2006-01-01
Source URL: https://poets.org/poem/poem-1