William Stafford

Walking West

Anyone with quiet pace whowalks a gray road in the Westmay hear a badger underground wherein deep flint another time isCaught by flint and held forever,the quiet pace of God stopped still.Anyone who listens walks ontime that dogs him single file,To mountains that are far from people,the face of the land gone gray like flint.Badgers…

At noon in the desert a panting lizard

watching the curve of a particular roadas if something might happen.It was looking at something farther offthan people could see, an important sceneacted in stone for little selvesat the flute end of consequences.There was just a continent without much on itunder a sky that never cared less.Ready for a change, the elbows waited.The hands gripped…

You will never be alone, you hear so deep

pulls across the hills and thrums,or the silence after lightening before it saysits names- and then the clouds’ wide-mouthedapologies. You were aimed from birth:you will never be alone. Rainwill come, a gutter filled, an Amazon,long aisles- you never heard so deep a sound,moss on rock, and years. You turn your head-that’s what the silence meant:…