Lonelilly
Doin' it my way.
December 21, 2009 at 11:11 pm
filed under Art
This poem still puzzles me, to this day. It is, as Creeley says here, a final uneasiness, although hopeful toward the end. I feel this especially while living up here in the Pacific Northwest, and on the night of the solstice. It is one of my most cherished poems. One that sticks with me, echoes within.
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.
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