William Michaelian

Poems, Notes, and Drawings

Mushrooms

Those bright-white buttons in green grass

that remind you of a clown’s shirt

and the way everyone laughs at his sadness

except an old poet in the back row

who swallows hard and says

that’s fall for you

and that kid in the long yellow bus

on his way to love and loss and the moon

 

And when the neighbor told me he’d scattered some grass seed where the previous owner’s old dog loved to sprawl, I thought of my great-grandmother’s quilt, and how it covers us all.

Categories: New Poems & Pieces

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