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By Robert Creeley

The galloping collection of boards   

are the house which I afforded   

one evening to walk into

just as the night came down.


Dark inside, the candle

lit of its own free will, the attic   

groaned then, the stairs

led me up into the air.


From outside, it must have seemed   

a wonder that it was

the inside he as me saw

in the dark there.


Robert Creeley, “Somewhere” from Selected Poems of Robert Creeley. Copyright © 1991 by the Regents of the University of California. Reprinted with the permission of the University of California Press, www.ucpress.edu.

Source: Selected Poems (University of California Press, 1991)

Poet Bio

Before he was five, Robert Creeley had lost the use of an eye in a freak accident and his father to a heart attack; not surprisingly, his poetry conveys an acute sense of the body’s frailty and the anguish of isolation, yet it also records the joys of love and family life. His verse is instantly recognizable—brief in its individual lines and overall length, and often so terse as to be opaque—while concerned to trace the puzzlements of the mind and heart as they move through experiences of intense intimacy. Much influenced by jazz musicians and action painters, Creeley stressed the process of writing over any finished product.

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