The darkness around us is deep.
— William Stafford
Still and all, Stafford kept on going,
morning after morning at his table.
I see him now, sitting in my armchair,
eyes half-closed, resting his fertile mind.
You never know, he told me once in passing,
where, when you shoot it, a bullet will end up.
May he rest, whose mind so seldom rested,
probing as it did the world’s unending darkness.