Great American Wordsmiths: Have you read the poetry of William Stafford?

Poems by William Stafford(1914 - 1993)


Time Goes By

On a corner you meet a face. It follows you,
and at night even after your eyes
are closed the face is there waiting.

Or, sometimes a tune begins in your head
and it won’t stop. No matter how
important the moment, the tune goes on.

When I was in school, a girl at a picnic
sang a song. It was autumn
and her face in the firelight overcame shadows.

Listen---- there is a sound beyond
every sound, and there is a face almost
glimpsed, like a friend’s, when shadows move.









How It Can Be

People can drift farther apart. They can
move away and try never to be heard from.
The colors they wore will gradually relate
to other people. Places will change after
a time and there will be fewer and fewer reminders.
It will be different. Snow covers old paths.

Woodsmoke will continue to tell its old stories,
and I’m sorry about that, but when autumn comes
we can travel wherever we want and either
work or move on, even across the ocean,
and not pay any attention to the stars
or to certain songs if we hear them.

Sometimes a dog like our old one will run by;
roosters will crow like those every morning for so long,
but----you know---it will change. New trees
will grow. Beacons on high places everywhere
in the world will go on blinking over and over.




From the collection “Even in Quiet Places”,
Poems by William Stafford
(Confluence Press,1996)




The Way It Is

There’s a thread you follow. It goes among
things that change. But it doesn’t
change.
People wonder about what you are
pursuing.
You have to explain about the thread.
But it is hard for others to see.
While you hold it you can’t get lost.
Tragedies happen; people get hurt or die;
and you suffer and get old.
Nothing you do can stop time’s unfolding.
You don’t ever let go of the thread.






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