More Words

A letter from a former student/basketball player. She says, in the middle paragraphs: “A crazy thing happened to me that made me think of you, Pops. I moved to a new apartment in Corvallis, and wanted to find some art to put on the walls, so I went to the local Goodwill. When I got there...there was a framed copy of William Stafford’s “You Reading This, Be Ready.” I still remember you reading us that poem in the upper gym, and getting chills at the line, “What can anyone give you greater than now, starting here, right in this room, when you turn around?”

It’s hanging above my kitchen table now. Forever grateful for you exposing us bumpkins to such beautiful writing.”

How about that?

Here is the whole poem:


Starting here, what do you want to remember? How sunlight creeps along a shining floor?
What scent of old wood hovers, what softened sound from outside fills the air? Will you ever bring a better gift for the world than the breathing respect that you carry
wherever you go right now? Are you waiting for time to show you some better thoughts?

When you turn around, starting here, lift this new glimpse that you found; carry into evening all that you want from this day. This interval you spent reading or hearing this, keep it for life.
What can anyone give you greater than now, starting here, right in this room, when you turn around?