William Michaelian

Poems, Notes, and Drawings

Inheritance

Inheritance — February 8, 2019

Inheritance — February 8, 2019

 

Inheritance

Every winter,
we pruned
the same
long
rows
of vines.

Now we’re older;
some of us have died.

I see the vineyard in my mind:
the brush is tangled, leafless, waiting.

Songs and Letters, February 4, 2007
Winter Poems, Cosmopsis Books, 2007




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Categories: Drawings, Songs and Letters, Winter Poems

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