William Michaelian

Poems, Notes, and Drawings

Visions of Spring

Dear crocus, sleeping in the morn — laughing later

in the storm — my time to preach is past,

but not my time to learn — or why — on earth — be born?

Visions of Spring

Our battered house
tugs at its anchor
in a sea of mud.

In the galley,
there are potatoes
with bulging eyes,
onions with hair,
dwindling lumps
of cheese and bread.

From the roof,
birds utter strange
messages, warnings,
painful cries.

Cities burning,
children starving,
the leaders have
all gone mad.

Only blood will
satisfy them,
and the marrow
of servile bones.

Only peace will
vanquish them,
sprouting on their
barren slopes.

I go to my window
and look out.

Fields rejoice
in the song of plows.

Songs and Letters, January 22, 2006

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Categories: New Poems & Pieces, Songs and Letters

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