At the San Francisco Airport

By Yvor Winters

To my daughter, 1954

This is the terminal: the light
Gives perfect vision, false and hard; The metal glitters, deep and bright. Great planes are waiting in the yard— They are already in the night.

And you are here beside me, small, Contained and fragile, and intent On things that I but half recall— Yet going whither you are bent.

I am the past, and that is all.

But you and I in part are one:
The frightened brain, the nervous will, The knowledge of what must be done, The passion to acquire the skill
To face that which you dare not shun.

The rain of matter upon sense
Destroys me momently. The score:
There comes what will come. The expense Is what one thought, and something more— One’s being and intelligence.

This is the terminal, the break. Beyond this point, on lines of air, You take the way that you must take; And I remain in light and stare
In light, and nothing else, awake.

What is the main idea of the third stanza of the poem?

a
The daughter is excited about the future.
b
The parent and child anticipate a reunion.
c
The father and daughter share an emotional connection
d
The father wants to share a similar experience from his past.