ETJ

ETJ
7/5/2009
Washington, DC

Where a river touches an island
under willows leaning over
I watch the waves and think of you,
who almost lived.

Stars will rake the sky again,
and time will go on, the dark, the cold.
Clouds will race when the wind begins,
where you almost were.

But while the thunder shakes the world
and the graceful dance and the powerful win,
still faithful, still in thought, I bow,
little one.

-William Stafford