They want to make you happy when they remember. Walk a little, get up, now, die safely, easily, into singleness, too tired with it to keep on and on.
Waves break at the darkness under the road, sounds in the faint night's softness.
Your head shuddered, it seemed, your eyes wanted, I thought, to see who it was. I am here, and will follow. By Robert Creeley. The Collected Poems of Robert Creeley 1982, University of California Press. You can buy The Collected Poems of Robert Creeley, 1945-1975 at Chapters.