I'm genuinely torn as to whether this or "A Token" is my favorite of Robert Creeley's short poems. When they get longer than a page, I'm torn between "The Numbers", "Poem for D.H. Lawrence", "The Door", and probably some others I can't think of right off the top of my head. But this little piece is so charming I slip it into letters and cards whenever I get the chance: it's such a delightful, open yet hesitant invitation to a meeting of the minds, and perhaps a longer, more meaningful correspondence. On the other hand, I know both this poem and "A Token" by heart, but the latter is the only poem I have ever attempted to translate into American Sign Language. So it's a toss-up, I guess. Go read "A Token" next.
You send me your poems,
I'll send you mine.
Things tend to awaken
even through random communication.
Let us suddenly
proclaim spring. And jeer
at the others,
all the others.
I will send a picture too
if you will send me one of you.
—Robert Creeley