My family slept those level miles
but like a bell rung deep till dawn
I drove down an aisle of sound,
nothing real but in the bell,
past the town where I was born.
Once you cross a land like that
you own your face more: what the light
struck told a self; every rock
denied all the rest of the world.
We stopped at Sharon Springs and ate–
My state still dark, my dream too long to tell.
(William Stafford)
More Poetry from William Stafford:
William Stafford Poems based on Topics: World, Light, Past, Self- Bess (William Stafford Poems)
- Accountability (William Stafford Poems)
- Humanities Lecture (William Stafford Poems)
- After Arguing Against The Contention That Art Must Come From Discontent (William Stafford Poems)
- An Oregon Message (William Stafford Poems)
- Bi-Focal (William Stafford Poems)