Perdition > Writing | WritersCafe.org | The Online Writing Community

William Stafford... poet (1914-1993)...to have had one day to "talk reckless" with the man.

Tonight I walked my footprints through the seams A distance not far beneath insufficient eyes But far enough to d..

I thought I might try I thought todayI would wake pour the morning's death from my buried headthe moss from its faithful tong..

do we talk of this like a shattered spine or a worm hole Piercing a lemon salted mask Both of us willing..

You were dancing in a dark flamenco dressI listened as the castanets made their Spanish tearsbelieving we were broken from the heart..

An arrow into the air for Halloween.

Everything yes everything is a joy the first scorch from morning’s break into each crack the wide s..

There will come a time when you will know and sense this deeply deeper than the mind will ever let on farther..

Midnight we are once again in cold white orbital rain corrupting the tall wet struggles of the winter gra..

It will comeThough the narrows of life seem longAnd the day,a curse we weather to recall our namesIt will comeWhen shouldering..