From the Wild People, by William Stafford

Whaaaaatt, I LOVE this poem!  I had to share.

From the Wild People

Time used to live here.

It likes to find places like this

and then leave so quietly

that nothing wakes up.

Whenever a rock finds what it likes

it hardly ever changes.  Oh, rain

can persuade it or maybe a river

Out looking around.  But that’s the exception.

They say there was a time when

rocks liked to dance.  You can see

where that happened – great piles

of old partners that got tired of each other.

Now and then one stirs when nobody

is looking: Then it stops and looks away

humming a little tune.  In the mountains

you can see those nonchalant rocks.

Some of them should have stopped sooner –

they’re haggard old wrecks, friendless,

and often just slumped around wherever they fell.

– William Stafford


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