Thursday, November 10, 2011

For Fear

For fear I want
to make myself again
under the thumb
of old love, old time

and pain, bent
into a nail that will
not come out.

Why, love, does it
make such a difference
not to be heard
in spite of self

or what we may feel,
one for the other,
but as a hammer
to drive again

bent nail
into old hurt?

Robert Creeley