American Gothic
William Stafford

If we see better through tiny,
grim glasses, we like to wear
tiny, grim glasses.
Our parents willed us this
view. It’s tundra? We love it.

We travel our kind of
Renaissance: barnfuls of hay,
whole voyages of corn, and
a book that flickers its
halo in the parlor.

Poverty plus confidence equals
pioneers. We never doubted.

from William Stafford. The Way It Is: New and Selected Poems by William Stafford. St. Paul, MN: Graywolf Press, 1998. page 182.