deeper every night...

William Stafford

A History of Our Land

In old times here the hills moved
like big animals. They ate up
villages and climbed on down
into the sea. And the weather then
was always hungry; it fastened
icy teeth deeper every night and returned
for more. In winter it ate up
everything. The stars didn’t care
about anybody. They drilled holes
wherever the clouds opened. Big trees
get together now and whisper their stories
about when bears were the only people.


A political poem.

What we think we know, we really don’t know.

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