Day after day up there beating my wings
with all the softness truth requires
I feel them shrug whenever I pause:
they class my voice among tentative things,
And they credit fact, force, battering.
I dance my way toward the family of knowing,
embracing stray error as a long-lost boy
and bringing him home with my fluttering.
Every quick feather asserts a just claim;
it bites like a saw into white pine.
I communicate right; but explain to the dean--
well, Right has a long and intricate name.
And the saying of it is a lonely thing.
William Stafford's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Lit Instructor by William Stafford )
- Destroying Others, Edward Kofi Louis
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- They That Love Beyond The World, William Penn
- Be Wise, Edward Kofi Louis
- Bakery, Edward Kofi Louis
- Songs Of The Death Of Children, Friedrich Rückert
- Resurrection, Vladimir Holan
- How Do They Catch Cobras?, Bijay Kant Dubey
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Edgar Allan Poe
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