I keep to myself such
measures as I care for,
daily the rocks
accumulate position.
There is nothing
but what thinking makes
it less tangible. The mind,
fast as it goes, loses
pace, puts in place of it
like rocks simple markers,
for a way only to
hopefully come back to
where it cannot. All
forgets. My mind sinks.
I hold in both hands such weight
it is my only description.
(Robert Creeley, Words, 52)
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