.
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02147. this land: photo by Junk Male (borrowed_time), 24 March 2008
- ..............after Hardy
Why would she come to him,
come to him,
in such disguise
to look again at him—
look again—
with vacant eyes—
and why the pain still,
the pain—
still useless to them—
as if to begin again—
again begin—
what had never been?
.
Why be
persistently
hurtful—
no truth
to tell
or wish to?
Why?
.
The weather's still grey
and the clouds gather
where they once walked
out together,
watched the world with
a faint happiness,
watched it die
in the same place.- Robert Creeley (1926-2005): Versions (after Hardy), from Mirrors, 1981
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02072. coast: photo by Junk Male (borrowed_time), 22 February 2008
