William Stafford (January 17, 1914 – August 28, 1993 / Kansas)
For My Young Friends Who Are Afraid
There is a country to cross you will
find in the corner of your eye, in
the quick slip of your foot--air far
down, a snap that might have caught.
And maybe for you, for me, a high, passing
voice that finds its way by being
afraid. That country is there, for us,
carried as it is crossed. What you fear
will not go away: it will take you into
yourself and bless you and keep you.
That's the world, and we all live there.
William Stafford's Other Poems
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- Across Kansas
- After Arguing Against The Contention Tha...
- American Gothic
- An Oregon Message
- Ask Me
- At The Bomb Testing Site
- At The Un-National Monument Along The Ca...
- For My Young Friends Who Are Afraid
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