Thursday, December 22, 2011

Why I Am Happy

Now has come, an easy time.  I let it
roll.  There is a lake somewhere
so blue and far nobody owns it.
A wind comes by and a willow listens

I hear all this, every summer, I laugh
and cry for every turn of the world,
its terribly cold, innocent spin.
That lake stays  blue and free; it goes
on and on.

And I know where it is.

William Stafford
Photo:  Peter Bowers