Thursday, August 15, 2013

Thursday Poem - Looking for Gold

A flavor like wild honey begins
when you cross the river. On a sandbar
sunlight stretches out its limbs, or is it
a sycamore, so brazen, so clean and so bold?
You forget about gold. You stare—and a flavor
is rising all the time from the trees.
Back from the river, over by a thick

forest, you feel the tide of wild honey
flooding your plans, flooding the hours
till they waver forward looking back. They can’t
return; that river divides more than
two sides of your life. The only way
is farther, breathing that country, becoming
wise in its flavor, a native of the sun.

William Stafford, Looking for Gold
(The Way it Is: New and Selected Poems)


Guy said...

Hi Cate

I love the way you captured the light and Stafford is a wonderful poet.


Laura said...

so beautiful!