Sound of the Ax: Aphorisms and Poems by William Stafford

Wild Horse Lore

30 Wild Horse Lore Downhill, any gait will serve. It tastes good—a little snow on old hay. A stylish mane finds the wind. The world, and enough grass— we don’t need the cavalry any more. 31 Where I walk is road, but where I look around is wilderness, if I look far enough. In a rich country the good life consists not in “and” but “or.” You are inside the story, telling it, even when you think you are outside. Poetry does not state; it manifests. My kind of faith is that most mountains won’t move. In small things a person could be exemplary while perhaps in one large thing absolutely to be condemned. My life isn’t what I thought it was. But the world isn’t either. Mean people: They have to think a certain way to be like that—the quality of their lives is their punishment. 32 Alone. Remember. Fear. Not three words: three worlds. The world is what you see outside your window plus what you think of. I hate those gifts when it’s the thought behind it. I distrust language and the treachery I feel in it. The truth is, every day brings a different possibility—and a doubt about yesterday. A gun can choose. A bullet has no choice. Truth has no perspective. ...