William Stafford

[Michael]

Last week we had our first Poetry Evening fundraiser for the 2009
Poetry Festival. Five poets, each remarkably different from each
other, each remarkable. One, Fred Marchant read a poem by William
Stafford from a book of Stafford's early work that Fred edited
( Another World Instead.)

We were all quite take by this short poem written when Stafford, age
30 , was a conscientious objector during WWII and was in work camps
out in the mountains of California. Like much of Stafford's work, the
poem seems deceptively simple. And yet contains so much insight,
wisdom and music. At the work camp there would often be singing in the
evenings before the men went to bed after their days of hard labor. I
hope you enjoy this poem as much as I do.

Yrs
Michael

“Shall we have that singing…”

Shall we have that singing in the evening?
For between the stars and our star there is no one.
And we must sleep again.
We rest the hands, not dangerous, on the wool.
And we place pillows under the turning head.

Quietly now, no moving,
Was there something forgotten?

(The losing one neglects and calls it winning.)
Help each other.
Have that singing in the evening.

William Stafford
Los Prietos, California
January 19,1944