Robert Creeley
Buffalo, NY
Ground Zero
What's after or before seems a dull locus now as if there ever could be more
or less of what there is, a life lived just because it is a life if nothing more.
The street goes by the door just like it did before. Years after I am dead,
there will be someone here instead perhaps to open it, look out to see what's there --
even if nothing is, or ever was, or somehow all got lost.
Persist, go on, believe. Dreams may be all we have, whatever one believe
of worlds wherever they are -- with people waiting there will know us when we come
when all the strife is over, all the sad battles lost or won, all turned to dust.
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