Back by Robert Creeley

Suppose it all turns into, again,
just the common, the expected
people, and places, the distance
only some change and possibly one

or two among them all, gone–
that word again–or simply more
alone than either had been
when you’d first met them. But you

also are not the same,
as if whatever you were were
the memory only, your hair, say,
a style otherwise, eyes now

with glasses, clothes even
a few years can make look
out of place, or where you
live now, the phone, all of it

changed. Do you simply give
them your address? Who?
What’s the face in the mirror then.
Who are you calling.

11 thoughts on “Back by Robert Creeley

    • Yeah, he can do that to you. But I enjoy his playfulness, even with topics that one would not think you could play with.
      And congratulations again on the publication.

      • That is true, and he can get deep quickly before you know it–that is the dizziness I get reading him. His poems seem so lightly packed, like for lunch, but he goes wherever he wants to, whether it’s meadow or mountain.

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