Smoke

Smoke’s way’s a good way– find,

or be rebuffed and gone:

a day and a day, the whole world home.

–

Smoke? Into the mountains I guess

a long time ago. Once here, yes,

everywhere. Say anything? No.

–

I saw Smoke, slow traveler, reluctant

but sure. Hesitant sometimes, yes,

because that’s the way things are.

–

Smoke never doubts though:

some new move will appear.

Wherever you are, there is another door.

William Stafford: “Ask Me:100 essential poems”