from “The Door”

So I screamed to You,
who hears as the wind, and changes
multiply, invariably,
changes in the mind.

Running to the door, I ran down
as a clock runs down. Walked backwards,
stumbled, sat down
hard on the floor near the wall.

Where were You,
How absurd, how vicious,
There is nothing to do but get up.
My knees were iron, I rusted in worship, of You.

Robert Creeley

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