When I Met My Muse

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The classic poem for this issue of The Fairfield Review features a piece written by William Stafford, one of our most treasured poets. This poem holds a special place in our hearts. --egh

When I Met My Muse
By William Stafford

I glanced at her and took my glasses
off-- they were still singing. They buzzed
like a locust on the coffee table and then
ceased. Her voice belled forth, and the
sunlight bent. I felt the ceiling arch, and
knew that nails up there took a new grip
on whatever they touched. "I am your own
way of looking at things," she said. "When
you allow me to live with you, every
glance at the world around you will be
a sort of salvation." And I took her hand.