Bill Stafford's Poetry

[OrdinaryTa]

He's dead 10 years now. I find his stuff encouraging. Google has 12,000 hits on Stafford's name, but I had to type this one in. It's part of a series called "The Move to California".

Written On The Stub of the First Paycheck

Gasoline makes game scarce.
In Elko, Nevada, I remember a stuffed wildcat
someone had shot on Bing Crosby's ranch.
I stood in the filling station
breathing fumes and reading the snarl of a map.

There were peaks to the left so high
they almost got away in the heat;
Reno and Las Vegas were ahead.
I had promise of the California job,
and three kids with me.

It takes a lot of miles to equal one wildcat
today. We moved into a housing tract.
Every dodging animal carries my hope in Nevada.
It has been a long day, Bing.
Wherever I go is your ranch.


William Stafford, 1914-1993