A Farewell, Age Ten by William Stafford
While its owner looks away I touch the rabbit.
Its long soft ears fold back under my hand.
Miles of yellow wheat bend; their leaves
rustle away and wait for the sun and wind.
This day belongs to my uncle. This is his farm.
We have stopped on our journey; when my father says to
we will go on, leaving this paradise, leaving
the family place. We have my father's job.
Like him, I will be strong all of my life.
We are men. If we squint our eyes in the sun
we will see far. I'm ready. It's good, this resolve.
But I will never pet the rabbit again.
William Stafford published more than sixty-five volumes of poetry and was the Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress (currently known as the Poet Laureate) in 1970.This poem is from the book: The Way It Is, New and Selected Poems, available through the MelCat system.
Original source can be found here.
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