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More poems by Robert CreeleyRobert Creeley | Print this page.Print | View and Write CommentsComments (2) | Books by Robert CreeleyBooks by Robert Creeley

The Rain

Robert Creeley

All night the sound had
come back again,
and again falls
this quite, 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.

Added: 13 Sep 2001 | Last Read: 21 Apr 2018 10:56 PM | Viewed: 8447 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/1650/ | Viewed on 21 April 2018.
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