I'm doing a project in which I have to illustrate part of a children's book based on a poem of my choosing (why does Firefox say children's is spelled wrong or not a word?) and I chose "The Light By The Barn" by William Stafford. I read some of his other poetry when I was trying to decided what to choose, and here's The Light By The Barn and another one that I liked, both by William Stafford:
I think it is okay to reproduce these two poems since they're available on a bunch of other poetry websites on the internet.
The Light By The Barn
The light by the barn that shines all night
Pales at dawn when a little breeze comes.
A little breeze comes breathing the fields
From their sleep and waking the slow windmill.
The slow windmill sings the long day
About anguish and loss to the chickens at work.
The little breeze follows the slow windmill
And the chickens at work till the Sun goes down...
Then the light by the barn again.
Objector
In line at lunch I cross my fork and spoon
to ward off complicity--the ordered life
our leaders have offered us. Thin as a knife,
our chance to live depends on such a sign
while others talk and The Pentagon from the moon
is bouncing exact commands: "Forget your faith;
be ready for whatever it takes to win: we face
annihilation unless all citizens get in line."
I bow and cross my fork and spoon: somewhere
other citizens more fearfully bow
in a place terrorized by their kind of oppressive state.
Our signs both mean, "You hostages over there
will never be slaughtered by my act." Our vows
cross: never to kill and call it fate.
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