William Stafford: 100 Years of Poetry -- Part Two

said today on tv are presents we celebrate the life of one of our state's most beloved poets i'm kay mcintyre it's part two in our celebration of william stafford who would have turned one hundred years old this year washburn university recently hosted a day of poetry readings and reflections on today's program we'll hear from dozens of poets from across the state who took part in william stafford one hundred years of poetry and peace if you missed last week's program part one in our celebration of the works of william stafford it's now archived on our website k pr back at you that edu stanford was born in hutchinson kansas on january seventeenth nineteen fourteen and grew up in liberal garden city elder radio and a number of small kansas towns here bachelor's and master's degrees from the university of kansas during world war two he became a conscientious objector working in civilian public service

camps from nineteen forty two to nineteen forty six he was forty eight years old when his first book of poetry was published that collection traveling through the dark won the national book award in nineteen sixty three in nineteen seventy he was named the poetry consultant to the library of congress a precursor to today's us poet laureate he spent much of his adult life in the pacific northwest where he taught at lewis and clark college in oregon in nineteen ninety two he won the western states book award for lifetime achievement in poetry during his lifetime stafford published about fifty books of poetry many more have been published since his death in nineteen ninety three in just a minute we'll hear excerpts from that washburn university and then celebrating the life in poetry of william stafford first a few of his poems in his own voice these recordings are used with special permission from the watts a library special collections and archives at

lewis and clark college in portland oregon at the un national monument along the canadian border this is a field where the battle that not happen or the unknown soldier did not deny this is the field where grass joined hands or no money with stents and the only heroic things the sky birds fly here without any sound unfolding their wings across the open no people killed more were killed on this ground hallowed by neglect and an heir so tame that people celebrated for giving his name for the unknown enemy

this monument like a picture or life began to appear together to home in the evening and saying another fields this on this guy a holiday came and they carry the baby to the park for a party some lights around here we glimpse what our minds long turned away from the great mutual blindness darkened that sunlight in the park and this guy that was new and the holiday is this monument says that one afternoon we stood here letting a part of our minds escape they came back a different enemy one day we glimpsed your life this monument this is

that's william stafford reciting his poem for the unknown enemy before that at the national monument along the canadian border these recordings are used with permission of the watts a library special collections and archives at lewis and clark college in portland oregon washburn university hosted william stafford one hundred years of poetry and peace on march thirty first two thousand fourteen the keynote speaker at this event was stafford son kevin stafford a poet and storyteller in his own right it all in kansas a semi my father would conclude many conversations would be talking about a new name anything well

in kansas and on there came the paragon the most outrageous character the most interesting place the most lovely evening and that out in oregon you know people wait get going about kansas an instant someone would finally sobel oh did you like oregon any civilian oregon's ok except the trees and the mountains get in the way of the scenery too because the scenery is the sky scenery is great city of blue you know when he died and her poetry manuscript he left the first poem once the sky that says to him to the sky you know when the time comes he'll come and take me well years ago i had the good fortune to be invited to go to overhaul can read with ted cruz and i'd never been to nebraska that's

where my mama was born and lived till she was eight years old when a lot of nebraska story set in iran and the william cleft corn one time could to be a better name for the poet laureate of nebraska and william cleft koran and i said well tell me about the actress he saw parts of most conservative town america in a departure current come back twenty or thirty years later still be right there we left and that is if you know there's only one other town like america hutchinson kansas stereo so it's going to nebraska double the honorable thing would be to write a nebraska court and i'm going to nebraska and havel is family heritage and so i sat down at the skull and down then i remembered another story so i wrote another nebraska corn and twenty four hours later by the time i landed in on the whole

and as tim nebraska points and it does give a final book called prairie prescription well strangely i was the first on the prairie prescription you have been weak and the daughter said well your first two children supports this simon russell day without fail or you will die speaking mr graham harrison how are you hearing this i prescribe an hour of duty a day back at the farm and evening largely my grandmother retired to the robber on the porch well the fields term velvet with purple and gold critics to their little drums and the breeze brought pollen from paradise the dish towel on its hook laundry basket tipped at the wall sachs not darned

greer not date a quilt in its box and sang like a folded their hands and gaze far into the shadows each day an hour of pure sky poured into the child curled inside her slanted sunlight braided into the rising looming moon she chases it and swallow a thimble of starlight a sip of do when the night came at last a harrowing umbilical tangled inside her the doctor said harrison and the children to the bar to pray while inside largely all that light and color and music and holy stillness clenched riot and with a wild

song my mother was poor oh i taught to my students and everyone i love an hour of the day is it too much to ask you now to write to listen to the phonograph as the doctor said that my grandmother to converse with those near you to gaze far into the shadows well i was really good at home as a valentine's day for mom all day well at that point that story about will encounter them it had told me my aunt recounted in virginia called willa cather's nice was her childhood friend asked whether these stories is called willa cather's rye they say i can roeder pony from red cloud out to immigrant farmers to deliver

mail scuffed letters from the old country exactly stamped slit open with trembling hands and then came two years they say out of her girls' hearts mercy she knew then she must read the letters first and so prepare a remedy before delivery a story to tell an antidote to harden was a way to open country people before their sorrows this is how they say little well i became a writer one who carries what she knows before the others across the prairie from town to the lonesome saudi where only are girls bright eyes can save an old woman's strangelove for other professors house becomes one of

our show antonia all began with a wild canter across open ground on a mission of mercy willows hair flying in the wind and a storied gathering in her mind like a store and helen my aunt my mother's sister is she it's only the last year's elections that i have the strangest dream i dreamed one of willa cather's novels from start to finish it wasn't one of her better novels loosely good heart and i don't know why after she died on reddit and reducing you know the classic situation the young people who are so clearly meant for each

other we are members of the business school comes back runs the bank ail ms lucy and they only get some money besides his comments as his legacy putting sidewalks and so prairie town solely sidewalks go out and at the end of the book after lucy has died and he goes out at the end of the sidewalk koreans in the prayer against any season sees footprints in the concrete and the last phrase of the novel to read light footsteps flying away then i knew why aunt helen dreamed that now ok time for my mama's side of history to more homes here my grandfather harrison he was called to the ministry you probably know the story is one of many kansas jokes a father tell the

same jokes over over her funnier eternity and then comes to the minister he says i dreamed my destiny up in the cloud so these two letters pc and i think that means bridge collapsed and leaving the farm i'm going to seminary and the minister says son with that spill says pluck or so that joe pentagon be going on this long cold cold from the corner my grandfather orphaned at age oldest of five plow through chores nebraska offered in spades winter mornings when the cows call them out from the stove read kitchen to rigging details flecked with cream stall lauren to gleam like a throne hickory handled menorah forks sunk in steaming wealth the corn would beg for one summer came scientists scientists masked men did soften the daily wire wound

around the handle this polished steel for my hands so long gone their names were biblical to the hair or stonyfield had punished truth by tooth with a team dragged it west north east south in the square spiral ending at dusk or his loan hunch standard the survival of the klan all this into one show the sky caught him by the hair yanked him upright from the spare sound drilled through head to heart withered almost cede hard by privation whispered laureate of the boy in that moment become minister summoned to labor in the vineyard of souls from far california where an orange peculiar calloused hands and after that the farming

life was a metaphor he preached toil and harvest seed and dante frozen dong and firelight for the faithful in a sun filled church at glendale all i really remember he's jammed hands grown smooth in prayer when you took your little fists and looked into your cell you know my hand the truth teller said you know he was so he was a soaring preacher but he was such a nice man but he just could not deliver a sermon except one time when there were only two people and he preached on the text two or three are gathered in miami he was really long

bob emmer with us lou grant from the midwest tell part of the story in my book early morning that time it might get that will allow an hour on his desk was a letter he'd been answering the mail was a letter from someone who is reporting a heart attack and a mutual friend of the ad and they get a turn the letter over and written in big loopy letters and all my life and i was not the midwest parents used for my dad blueprint from the midwest after my father collapse like a bolt of light toppled without a word i was the one to enter his study find a jacket know to our mother he scratched as you revealed

a freight train of his departure hurtling through his heart and all my life the sentiment he did not speak in seventy nine years as a tough customer affable but stern inert one grief became reserved has granted when my brother died cracking plaintive jokes when we traveled in the hospital mother going under the knife his way west trenchant old leaky he distrusted those who talk about god preferring to wander the hallways with a glance or silence delving deeper the day he died we found in his sock drawer under that standard set of flimsy arraignment affection photo of a flourish our

mother korea at the sink looking back over her shoulder dressed only in an apron with an old school like old and delving deeper back at the bottom file a niche where one would hide the stuff of blackmail i touch the blue brick of love letters our mother had sent one recorded in the war for the leaves just snip together and bound with string the trophy had carried a secret to every move since nineteen forty three she knew then not your hand his old ill patients and father early years taught your way with the harts contraband and the dirty thirties blunted your bravado tornado smashed your friends the

war or tenderness and left you with these secrets or good for us to find it when you go james stafford as the son of a poet william stafford he teaches at lewis and clark college in portland oregon him stafford was among about thirty poets who gathered at washburn university on march thirty first two thousand fourteen to share a day a poetry written by william stafford and new poems like that one that were inspired by him one of those poets was el or to lobby of lenexa who reads william stafford run before dawn followed by his own writing every day most mornings i get away slip out the door before light so forth on the down grade or letting my feet to find occasions that softly care at all follow my journey

because some days it's good the city is running behind a car service called in their tracks and everybody is fleeing like me but some other direction maestro are far less other days maybe some game across my path in my stride will follow for hours matching all turns my breathing has caught the right before and during this familiar chants like seeds sometimes it's a dream of motion streetlights coming near pass at shadows that leader forming lanes than invading a sound from a tree so or now these journeys how quiet mr my days with adventure too precious for anyone else to

share little gems of darkness the world knowing my breath a voice several months of my students got a clear message that prevent the worst eight years ago as a teacher i had in class and one of the things that he said to the class was right every day and someone asked what if you can't write in the response was i can affirm this was a response was we'll lower your standards as you write it it the catalonia this morning

reporters i tossed about that or about a lot of this a lot his players of water it only serves to reinforce these judgment calls a lot of humans says before the age of the seaweed so forth i guess this is a story about the cash mm hmm i will write every day the drill tomorrow i understand climbers plastic clothes flushing now for the money of linux our next two poets are the only husband and wife team that reddit washburn

university a celebration of william stafford greg field and mary francis wagner live in independence missouri a passer by being fair about sacrifice with no programme walking know acrobatics elevation i couldn't help save the weasel fastened on the throat univision isolates those chickens weasel kill i hear them relax years from now subsiding well the threat of an appeal to the ground with their wings and their sports or jumps off and it's called bless the nervous chickens i found her letters caught in the pasture first six years old i didn't understand their abandonment or abandon a woman calling out the man the way toward johnston

is the next farmhouse down the country road i listen to the wind or a paper and it drove me into the center of the clover field i lay down impossible the lobby and sound and color of reggio love shown through my hands you realize i was lost under the day the barn door was left open for years a giant black hole in a ramshackle read valentine from the last i saw in to the second floor bedroom low lamplight the approach their distance the silence between kind of calls mornings i recall the chickens seemed happy to see our faces without long hours is a tough to tears i told grandfather about the creed littered with crushed and shells and claws he said we were surrounded by harry receives that evening i walked out of that clover ft grandmother opened the

kitchen door and white fans out through the dark i came into the fragrance of fried chicken we heard birds and that can make a ruckus my grandfather blessed in their questions we were all hungry we were all thieves the evening in front of our house and pass them walked into the road neighbors watched it spin and pivot off the cars' wheels push itself like a room into the grass we talk about calling animal control but no one did no one touched it by morning i'm able to drag itself to familiar earth under the porch yet les upside down its feet pumping into sunlight a buzzard stand over it settled in a tree the possum

kept kicking pinky fingers pulsed and reached out mourning son climbed the buzzards shadow passed over again and again the possums white erie here stirred its head turned like a clock losing time like a toy winding down mary francis wagner lives in independence missouri if you're just joining us today is k pierre presents features poems by william stafford and new poems inspired by him i'm kate mcintyre you're listening to a pr presents on kansas public radio our next poet is dan poll of mount rage reading stop birds a walk in the country or anywhere in the world to

live now to speak to believe a harmless breath what snowflake event may drive today so common life so mild or death out in the country once walking the whole night i felt a burden of silver on my back deck called moonlight pouring through the trees like money that walk was laid so late i gently came to town and terrible thing happened the world wide unbearably try and lead on me i carried mountains though there was much i knew though kind people turn away our water or shamed into that still picture to bring my fear and pain by dawn i felt all right my hair was covered with

do the light was unbearable to like instill and cool and god had come back there to carry the world again since then while over the world the wind peels events and people contend like fools like a stubborn tumble we'd hold hold where i live and look and every face all friends were can one find a partner for the long pants or the fields and so my reply was a poem called all social beings needed time alone walking to retain some sense some dignity by walking a country road at sunset away from the manmade noise of public distractions to dance within the sound steps of gravel and sand pushed the site's peaked in the middle like slow cars the degree that agreed to keep down the dust posted by the signs both ways near a single house isolated on purpose behind the hidden lines

spoken by the human words of the owner no trespass which means nothing to bristle terrier other side the gate vanishing the dawn or the cattle guard and ever never to return ignoring the light of the whistle to do so diving into a grassy to attack the red tie sometime nothing has happened here at the home of the beginning of some somebody begins to reports on harmonica i don't we tell our lives will be serious says i'll start when i finished college on movies to work in a bank in a robbery there will be a stray bullet that will kill me tom what's playing the harmonica or all working dads drugstore my wife and child will die in a fire when the child is three he

goes on breathe insulin that's mary leans back on the porch swing all married time and all hold that little ones so close i see exactly steve says after the war all come back here and you will all be gone i don't want to tell the rest then they turned to me i'll have carefully and a long time years from now when i'm writing to a friend i'll tell him when we said today and how it all came true and oh marvin and even this part that's leslie van houten of the kansas humanities council our next poet is bill myers of lyons colorado followed by kevin rapist who teaches at a four year state university anyone physically i didn't sleep among columnists noticed something in this you play the game to find yourself

mason believes in gravity at least an oil which describes the path from the heavens to the underworld at once i'm thinking our cabin not far from the road that far enough a man stands at the saints sipping coffee window feathers his gaze with winters soft light ponderous is play plumb in all variations and granite speaks gravity is tugging steadfast and lasting from the next room the woods the cask appear in order of

appearance were dinosaurs saber toothed as many birds pioneers shoshone wolverines wolves and grizzlies for some reason they don't come around much anymore also certain people have gone away saints explores they didn't want to disturb the air all those tracks and river sand gone and they're all washed away so sometimes i choose and clapping let it across the sky floating me off there too or burton rap song and carries me as it flies deeper and deeper into the woods surged times laments are not necessary you could wait here all winter and the mountains would just stand there they wouldn't say anything why should they care sunday everything will be

gone haiti let's hurry down and forget this it gets cold here in anaheim it's called broken down car bikers and that's actually from a tail that can stafford told the rendezvous near reported some time ago he can tell me how much of that i got right there's always a notion that lots of button overdo it broken down car buyers when candid comments he brings his guitar scenes and when we ask about his father about that motorcycle gang that even a cloud of dust the stafford family car start good for smoking and that rumble of engines and spokesman crone like coal mines campus says father stood like a stone what to know what the man who didn't say nothing

nothing here move along and the date clears of that class and the cycle gang rumbles past they look don't stop their tail lights going to reading their tires coal dust plant gravel like a national practically and the claps fallen down the long road kevin greatest teachers and emporia state university william staffers poetry is often noted for its use of plain language one critic called it deceptively simple our next poem is william staffers response his poem thinking about being called simple by a critic it's read here by bob stewart a prairie village he teaches at the university of missouri kansas city and is the editor of the literary magazine new letters i wanted the clones but i waited the sun went

down the fire went out with no lights on i waited from the night again those words house and i listened the words all sank down deep and rich i felt their truth and began to live than they were mine to enjoy robot a friend could give so sternly what the sky feels for everyone but few learn to cherish in the dark with the truth i began the sentence of my life and found it so simple there was no way back and to qualify my thoughts with irony or anything like that i went to the fridge until blended sure enough by the light it was on i reached in and

get the plants tolerate this fall so you can see how i've stolen most of them from other people and this is called i'm having a beer with bills staffer there's an epigraph to this from one of his poems whole last a long time if you're happy at this point though it all gets mixed up you being dead sixteen years and i will have had a long time since what you said our attention makes each act rio even those made up you bowe yeah i mean so i thought god there's like a red and white truck remember i dropped you a little late at the international airport we hug and oh that truck would crank but would not catch you looked at your watch

risk set everything by god will be all right and ran to catch a westerly plan or am i confused by wind too as many admirable people circled a great and there's just some truth we have to earn like a river i haven't mentioned that runs in circles and i think now the poet taking lead at the international airport might have been you or your body or their pastor gerald stern maybe one of snyder's small birds that flipped from about a bow to borrow now that i have taken your advice still haven't cracked a beer to sit in the dark with the truth is there to begin again california helped me to

understand my father told me and now having lived in kansas for more than half my life i still turn to the poems of william stafford and they never failed to bring my father back and to make some kind of sense of the land around here a poem i've chosen is as especially an important one to me it's all one home the title really says at all i think in a way because no matter where you go and when you get a certain kind of childhood in a certain particular kind of place noel says ever truly home one home mine was a midwest home you can keep your world plain black hats wrote the thoughts that made and we sang hymns in the house the roof was nearby the light bulb that hung in the pantry made a while i always intrigued by the names of prisoners

outside the press a wildcats banging around on the fourth of july when he was cutting tom bushes for fuel before india is called the west over the edge of the sky to anyone who lived as we said my friend likened soda thought we could say hello but plain black hats were the thoughts that made the sun was over our town it was like a ballet picking cotton with these we ran toward stones where every week that would hold us on how i don't know my own poem by heart but i don't want my heart the target list this poem was directly inspired

by that poem by that image of the sun overhead the kind of unifying people and the smiling closed community but also serving as a kind of overlord i think stanford's work one of the things i love the most and it is in the way this the languages simple and clear but that the ideas behind it revealed quite a complexity of thought and he saw the duality of nature so clearly at it just in that one on his skis see it in several places major as i'm your fire but also have an overload but also dominant fuel and so i was thinking of the major as maybe the benevolent giver of all that we need to survive but also the the heat has even the nine this promise caught fire center uses the image of the sun and in that way that fire is no one questioned anything goes

candace is going to assign the way against them what they trade until until then all around our town we saw that character named and at mosques with the air like inevitability the sky stayed at with that heat for days they were being used it is actually a familiar way all day we did hear cicadas coming in to land in ohio okayed are eighteen year series heavy scrutiny after seventeen years of sleeping treatments emerging from darkness for a single mum of times everything's on fire what's taken before its time never dies it merely sleeps just out a few nascent our in house right now the fires return each year stealing what's still seems neo we feel those

same landscape hot contender and this is the peace i grew up three miles east of liberal and always felt overjoyed when i heard william stafford prefer to liberal so the poem that i wrote in tribute is called liberal kansas william stafford traced my hometowns wilderness edge the eternal frontier brown cimarron has were no one means you along a beckoning space after porno after the horseback comanches after the dust

bowl after the war brought my parents claimed and quick exit the window and always sweeps clean the way for someone else my father died here trying to hold the billowing sand but not before it had taught him to the old one eye on the sky to love time a quick indians that was really in hinds penner of topeka reading her poem liberal kansas before that patricia traxler of saliva who read william staffers poem one home and her own poem fires we're hearing the words of kansas poet william stafford and new poems inspired by him on today's program when herman of topeka takes his inspiration from william stafford stands as a conscientious objector during world war two in his new poem stafford noble ceo

the voice pogue wrote steady despite persecution or do you study loving compassionate understanding why this at first year if you listen no but gradually a few been more and more gradually praised more and more and the law and that horse while recognizing stature and worth it daily life continued mundane concerns a reputation was made and suddenly on the wearers was time to be that was duane herman he get reading his poem stafford noble ceo our next poet is also from topeka liz bearing tan writes about her move to the sunflower state in the cutting of canton and a californian and i am a bostonian ii so i never made honor to anchorage in california and other states a

relocated to quickly became home however when i moved to be guaranteed doesn't step in kansas was a to me a foreign land flyover country a sea of red between lucas i came to kansas to live on and the final distillation of that like robert kansas it is of course a simpler and more complicated than that my family had plans to move to speak after it finished sixth grade that spring when we visited the city once but it still existed for me largely in my imagination i saw the move as an opportunity for a fresh start it possibly be instead of leslie don't know where i got that idea and i understand the impact of a name change are better now than i did back then and i would make friends i was comfortable with who were

kind to me he didn't pretend not to know me when we were at school lance who've ended up falling through him fairly spectacular way that it's for the best if nothing else of lizzie is clearly the better nickname libyan introverts a weird girl with tangled hair who reads universe let me as a social butterfly rose teas and luncheons and it's their hair sprayed it is i was less sanguine about sixteen years it was distressing the distant from mountains and oceans and alarmingly full of conservative christians ought to be earthquake people people i assumed with liberal divorced we're not a christian topeka is home to the westboro baptist church after all mostly i feared it would be expected to conform when i didn't have it

tried to do so anymore inside i was released to learn more about its origins of the free state and to be introduced to writers who once called kansas home writers like william stafford is ms terri ten lives and to be getting our last two poets in today's silly to william stafford have both served as the kansas poet laureate denise flow of lawrence served us poet laureate from two thousand seventy two thousand nine we'll hear her recite william stafford's court battle heights followed by her poem inside the crystal where we've touched on a little cold shivers begins this is the place where a coup or another found the cities of gold are doubts that the world had led a north indian civilization beyond what was good at writing

down under this prairie grass he fell his helmet tumbled right here he smell the earth and felt the sun begin to be his friend and he had found a treasure of the richest city of all wheat fields framed this place today i get how the riches of mexico the wandering tribe the cold and wind all come true for us bowing and referenced with koren on this boiling inside the crystal will be in a forthcoming collection of her red dress crystal days there's saint lovers core and i dont year's golden drones midnight maron with iran last indigo appliance

violence future gas cloud we were reported as arrives departs valencia live spies broken waist hundred stores command jury of burning blood santa fe of the city and read volcanoes boil hot cold life death the same or rainbow portals son jordan faces a trade lovers reappear laughter cheers liz that's denise low of lawrence she teaches at baker university and served as a poet laureate of kansas from two thousand seven to two thousand nine for the past hour we've been listening to poetry by william stafford and new poetry inspired by stafford and his work our final pod on today's program is karen miriam goldberg who

served as the state poet laureate from two thousand nine to two thousand thirteen while many of today's pilots to their inspiration from william stafford poetry carries me and goldberg took her inspiration from their inspiration with an improvised poem she created on the spot my mom i have written down a word or phrase to it's very sloppy hear from all of you who are bred and i'm just going to start making something up out loud it might make sense it might not take no responsibility walk my tan passed a possum with the baltic back carrying this bird entered soldier was quickly the light bulbs dangling glimmering as if they reflect burning prairie somewhere far far away or right above a lone star that leads

me home walk to the corner that elbows to the next street where you could escape into the gray dawn that would become a thicket of time a ritual of toys some lights in the sky and rattling or you could just stand very still take your glasses off weight as something he has landed wayne very still for what big east that will come the moment that you remember hadn't open your eyes like that wait for remembering the bloomberg of love letters he wrote but never sat or perhaps there's a lubricant love letters

out there for you coming wednesday start waving you stride your everyday stride your legs so called you feel like you stepped one foot after another in cold water the air and found a steel trap so the wind strong coming across u recurrence lives of autumn or spring wherever we are at the moment that's hard to remember at night but then you do remember this is a time of firsts in the backyard this is a time of mice walking through the large sums up hollyhocks keen to take over the porch as if this is where they've always lived oh it

certainly so syria it's as if you put your hands on the lever pulled down and rams slowly or fast to the stars you stop again and remember since the hummingbirds will come since the storms of stories stand maybe one of those stories about the stafford family car passing through here decades lifetimes ago the city of gold all dust that it knew something else a riot but instead ask me as you walk you hear this guy say ask me where you are walking toward whether indeed step you can land on the word cherish

whether this moment you can stop listen keenly and say to the world and myriad of heard of lawrence served as poet laureate of kansas from two thousand ninety two thousand thirteen to her column was created using fragments of the poems read by the participants in washburn universities recent celebration of the life of william stafford we close today's k pr presents with the words of william stafford read by william stafford himself my father could hear a little else step for a mosque in the dark against the screen and every far sound called the listening out in the places where the rest of us have never been moore spoke to him from the soft

world night and came to our course for us and when we would watch him look at his face guilty til the walls the roof weird white and my father heard so much that we still stand inviting the quiet by turning to face waiting for a time when something in the night will touch us to from that other place that's william stafford reading his poem listening things to the what's a library special collections and archives that was in clark college for permission to use this and other brick cortines of william stafford also many thanks to the poets who participated in washburn university a celebration of the life and poetry of stafford who would have turned one hundred years old this year special thanks to tom ever all for his help in coordinating the march

thirty first two thousand fourteen event if you missed last week's programme are one in this celebration of william stafford it's archived at our website k pr that kay you got edu and j mcintyre kbr presents is a production of kansas public radio