The light along the hills in the morning <br />comes down slowly, naming the trees <br />white, then coasting the ground for stones to nominate. <br /> <br />Notice what this poem is not doing. <br /> <br />A house, a house, a barn, the old <br />quarry, where the river shrugs-- <br />how much of this place is yours? <br /> <br />Notice what this poem is not doing. <br /> <br />Every person gone has taken a stone <br />to hold, and catch the sun. The carving <br />says, "Not here, but called away." <br /> <br />Notice what this poem is not doing. <br /> <br />The sun, the earth, the sky, all wait. <br />The crowns and redbirds talk. The light <br />along the hills has come, has found you. <br /> <br />Notice what this poem has not done.<br /><br />William Stafford<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/notice-what-this-poem-is-not-doing/
