Assurance by William Stafford
You will never be alone, you hear so deep
a sound when autumn comes. Yellow
pulls across the hills and thrums,
or in the silence after lightning before it says
its names-and then the clouds' wide-mouthed
apologies. You were aimed from birth:
you will never be alone. Rain
will come, a gutter filled, an Amazon,
long aisles-you never heard so deep a sound,
moss on rock, and years. You turn your head-
that's what the silence meant: you're not alone.
The whole wide world pours down
This is my favorite poem, and I thought it fitting that I begin with it, especially on this wet, autumnal evening. The trees outside my windows are waving fitfully and the orange streetlights are shining on the wet leaves. I love this weather.
