I've always enjoyed Creeley's sparse, clear poetry, but this book was too uneven. It was put together after his death, which is always a debatable exercise. Many reflections on aging and at times he slips with lines such as "Life is like a river. A river with beginning or end" found in same poem (A Full Cup) which includes small gems: "What I did, I did finally because I had to/whether from need of my own or that of others,/It is finally impossible to live and work only for pay." I would direct readers back to his "Selected Poems."