Cutting Loose” Sometimes from sorrow, for no reason, you sing. For no reason, you accept the way of being lost, cutting loose from all else and elec… - William Stafford

"Sometimes from sorrow, for no reason,
you sing.

from "Cutting Loose

"With Neighbors One Afternoon

Someone said, stirring their tea, "I would
come home any time just for this,
to look out the clear backyard air
and then into the cup."

You could see the tiniest pattern of bark on the trees
and every slight angle of color change
in the sunshine — millions of miles of gold light
lavished on people like us.

You could put out your hand and feel the rush of years
rounding your life into these days of ours.
From somewhere a leaf came gliding slowly down
and rested on the lawn.

Remember that scene? — inside it you folded the last
of your jealousy and hate and all those deeds so hard
to forget. Absolution: swish! — you took,
the past into your mouth,

And swallowed it, warm, thin, bitter and good."

Poetry Its door opens near. It’s a shrine by the road, it’s a flower in the parking lot of The Pentagon, it says, “Look around, listen. Feel the air.” It interrupts international telephone lines with a tune. When traffic lines jam, it gets out and dances on the bridge. If great people get distracted by fame they forget this essential kind of breathing and they die inside their gold shell. When caravans cross deserts it is the secret treasure hidden under the jewels.

Above, air sighs the pines. It was this way
when Rome was clanging, when Troy was being built,
when campfires lighted caves. The white butterflies dance
by the thousands in the still sunshine. Suddenly, anything
could happen to you. Your soul pulls toward the canyon.