Emily, This Place, and You. by William Stafford

She got out of the car here one day,
and it was snowing a little. She could see
little glimpses of those mountains, and away down
there by the river the curtain of snow would
shift, and those deep secret places looked
all the more mysterious. It was quick, you know.

Her life seemed quiet, too. There had been troubles,
sure – everyone has some. But now, looking out there,
she felt easy, at home in the world – maybe like
a casual snowflake. And some people loved her.
She would remember that. And remember this place.

As you will, wherever you go after this day,
just a stop by the road, and a glimpse of someone’s life,
and your own, too, how you can look out any time,
just being part of things, getting used to being a person,
taking it easy, you know.

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