Place to Be by Robert Creeley
Here on my desk staring at the work that matters. Pages and pages of words, and I am deliberating on what needs doing. Of course a poem is never over, of course. But the manuscript exists.
Place to Be
Robert CreeleyDays the weather sits
in the endless sky,
the clouds drifting by.The winter’s snow,
summer’s heat,
same street.Nothing changes
but the faces, the people,
all the things they do‘spite of heaven and hell
or city hall—
Nothing’s wiser than a moment.No one’s chance
is simply changed by wishing,
right or wrong.What you do is how you get along.
What you did is all it ever means.
