More From Montana

I had been stumped on what to write about today, but then I remembered a poem I came across when hunting down info for my post about Henry Real Bird. It's a poem that was shared with me last year and I like it a lot. I share it here in its entirety because there is no good place to cut it off. (Sorry for this infringement. I'll take the poetry blogging demerits, I suppose. If you'd rather, you can find the poem and its permissions here.)

Once in the 40's
by William Stafford
We were alone one night on a long road in Montana. This was in winter, a big night, far to the stars. We had hitched, my wife and I, and left our ride at a crossing to go on. Tired and cold--but brave--we trudged along. This, we said, was our life, watched over, allowed to go where we wanted. We said we'd come back some time when we got rich. We'd leave the others and find a night like this, whatever we had to give, and no matter how far, to be so happy again.

What a great story captured in 11 lines. "Whatever we had to give, and no matter how far..." Such simple language illustrating a deep emotion. And how about "far to the stars?" Kind of a surprising way of stating that...and with such nice sounds. I feel at a loss for words when it comes to describing all the great things about this poem. Maybe you can try.