the archivist July 6, 2020

Charles Simic

Every morning I forget how it is.
I watch the smoke mount
In great strides above the city.
I belong to no one.

Then, I remember my shoes,
How I have to put them on,
How bending over to tie them up
I will look into the earth.


Charles Simic
This poem originally appeared in Dismantling the Silence, 1971. amzn | library