William Stafford Comments

(1978) , and An Oregon Message (1987) . William Stafford died at his home in Lake Oswego, Oregon, on August 28,1993.

and complex vision upon closer examination. Among his best-known books are The Rescued Year (1966) , Stories That Could Be True: New and Collected Poems (1977) , Writing the Australian Crawl: Views on the Writer's Vocation

His poetry was strongly influenced by both the people and the plains region of his youth and young adulthood. Stafford's poems are often deceptively simple. Like Robert Frost's, however, they reveal a distinctive

William Stafford introvert great North American poet: Although his father appears more often in his poetry, Stafford has stated that his mother's presence and behavior influenced his writing.

Why can't I find his Juncos poem? There was a whole art show based on his line " I love their clean little coveralls." I have most of his books but don't know which one to look in. I love William Stafford. I love juncos.

Poem name: First line: " Time wants to show you a different country"

William Stafford ranked highest among fellow poets rather than run-of-the-mill readers. He had technical brilliance fused with imagination. Also originality.

@Sir Bob The Great Wat the heck? ? ? ?

I say what a great man. Must go now its tea time.

Life sleeps in this tired old horse - from " A few snorts from a wild one"

Would someone tell me the first word of the first line of Stafford’s “A Few Snorts from a Wild One”? I have a photocopy of that poem, but the first word (and only that one word) is illegible... Kind regards!

I think the first poem I ever read by him was titled Alpine.: It was a monologue by a small animal that lived above timberline on an unnamed mountain.

Hello Pamela Rogers THE LITTLE GIRL BY THE FENCE AT SCHOOL Grass that was moving found all shades of brown, moved them along, flowed autumn away galloping southward where summer had gone. And that was the morning someone’s heart stopped and all became still. A girl said, “Forever? ” And the grass. “Yes. Forever.” While the sky — The sky — the sky — the sky.

Nobert Hirschhorn is preoccupied with the apparent, incapable of appreciating the spaces of the mind which may guide us to universal truths. You cannot blame him; for urban life with it's trivialities, ultimately constricts- builds walls of concrete & glass which keeps in facts but excludes the Truth.

Can someone tell me the name of the poem by William Stafford that someone on Oregon Art Beat recently referred to as having helped her during a time of grief? It ended with the sky, the sky, the sky. The title was something about a little girl and a fence for something? I've not located it as yet. Thanks for any help.

Recently watched Oregon Art Beat where they featured William Stafford. Loved, loved his poetry.....it's how I think. It's inspiring me to get back into writing myself.

William Stafford's Traveling Through the Dark: I am surprised how the poem is always misread. The doe 'had stiffened already, almost cold', i.e, several hours along since death, which makes it impossible for a fawn to be still alive. The whole premise of the poem is thus false, and the dilemma inauthentically presented. Stafford was a man who understood nature and creatures, and so I have to wonder what was he thinking in creating this bit of fiction.