Stafford’s Place


William Stafford was a poet residing in the state of Oregon.

Sitting on this Oregon bench, alone
yet somehow engaged with
the audience of the world,

I think of Stafford
sitting on this same bench years ago,
pondering the ruffled murmur
of the breeze,
the hushed melody
of the trees,
the purposeful flowing
of the waters in a direction
none of us could know

I wonder if I am worthy
of sitting on this bench,
the one which supported
his being years ago, for I know
that, by sitting here, I have
placed myself permanently
amongst the stream of writers, of poets,
young and old, good and bad,
happy and sorrowful,
certain and confused.

I don’t know
that I like the permanence,
I don’t know
that I won’t want to erase myself
from the walls

But yet I sit, in harmony and in confusion,
with the poets and the writers
of generations before and after me,
looking out at the river,
looking out at the stream,
noting the stream’s turbulence
with a strange sense of disdain
and contentment,
that it is either turbulence
or unrelenting stillness
in this world.

Meghana Mysore

Meghana Mysore is a high school junior residing in rainy Portland, Oregon. She enjoys the art of observation, and finds herself practicing relentlessly. She hopes that, one day, she can earn a black belt

Latest posts by Meghana Mysore (see all)

%d bloggers like this: