William Stafford—Just Thinking

Just Thinking

Got up on a cool morning. Leaned out a window.
No cloud, no wind. Air that flowers held
for awhile. Some dove somewhere.

Been on probation most of my life. And
the rest of my life been condemned. So these moments
count for a lot—peace, you know.

Let the bucket of memory down into the well,
bring it up. Cool, cool minutes. No one
stirring, no plans. Just being there.

This is what the whole thing is about.

—William Stafford

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One Response to “William Stafford—Just Thinking”

  1. A mysterious bird in this Wallace Stevens poem teaches us the wonder of just being our self | The Uncarved Blog Says:

    […] Stafford in his poem, Just Thinking, also appreciates the value “of just being […]

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