“I Keep to Myself Such Measures . . . “ By Robert Creeley

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.

From “Postmodern American Poetry: A Norton Anthology,” edited by Paul Hoover (Norton: 744 pp., $19.95)