William Michaelian

Poems, Notes, and Drawings

Front Walk

In his journal, Emerson writes of walking with Hawthorne, talking with Thoreau, Carlyle’s latest book, and Tennyson’s new poems. In mine, I write of you, in terms of my own plain self. And this is our wealth: that we are each a funny blend of science and superstition, of pain, nerve, and luck. And this is our grief — the loss of dear Waldo, Emerson’s five-year-old son.

August 4, 2019

Front Walk

Instead of graves, why don’t we scatter like these geranium petals?

Poems, Slightly Used, July 21, 2009

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Categories: Everything and Nothing, New Poems & Pieces, Poems, Slightly Used

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