Thursday, March 31, 2005

The Rain - Robert Creeley

All night the sound had
come back again
and again falls
this quiet, persistent rain.

What am I to myself
that must be remembered,
insisted upon
so often? Is it

that never the ease
even the hardness
of rain falling
will have for me

something other than this,
something not so insistent ---
am I to be locked in this
final uneasiness.

Love, if you love me,
lie next to me.
Be for me, like rain
the getting out

of the tiredness, the fatuousness, the semi-
lust of intentional indifference.
Be wet
with a decent happiness.

from For Love: Poems 1950-1960, Charles Scribner & Son's 1962

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