Several months ago, I mentioned dreaming of William Stafford, who was sitting in an easy chair, reading a poem to me by lamplight. I found it very comforting and knew that the poem he read, one of my favorites, should be shared. It was titled, "A Ritual to Read to Each Other." Well, for the past few days, I haven't been able to shake another poem by him that also feels like it should be shared. And so, here it is, for reasons that are not clear to me. Maybe you will know ...
"Once in the 40s"
We were alone one night on a long
road in Montana. This was in winter, a big
night, far to the stars. We had hitched,
my wife and I, and left our ride at
a crossing to go on. Tired and cold -- but
brave -- we trudged along. This, we said,
was our life, watched over, allowed to go
where we wanted. We said we'd come back some time
when we got rich. We'd leave the others and find
a night like this, whatever we had to give,
and no matter how far, to be so happy again.
~ William Stafford