William Michaelian

Poems, Notes, and Drawings

Archive for August 2020

Colophon

The tragedy of opinion is that it is mistaken for truth. The tragedy of truth is that it is mistaken for opinion. July 25, 2017   Colophon and here facing east on a maple leaf a blue dragonfly passed the night Recently Banned Literature, July 25, 2017 [ 817 ]

Continue Reading →

A Certain Age

A profusion of Queen Anne’s Lace along both sides of the road, offset with patches of tall yellow flowers in bloom — whatever their name, or names, they are the same we see on our walks by the river, and which the bees love. In this gentle-warm atmosphere, one might think, or perhaps only wish, that the railroad tracks’ sole purpose is the transporting of dreams. From north to south […]

Continue Reading →

In the Beginning

Light is relentless. Darkness is sin. But which is which, my friend? Where does one end and the other begin? Sorrow is beauty. Humor is sad. But in the beginning, that wasn’t my plan. And Job said, Begin again. [ 815 ]

Continue Reading →

Sweat the Gold, the Place You Kneel

I moved two tiny oak-sprouts from the garden into clay pots today. One was growing next to the six-foot redwood stake at the end of a tomato row; the other was near the base of our vine. For now I’m calling them the vineyard oak and the tomato oak, the latter at the risk of a little clumsiness for the double-o vowels. The main roots on both were surprisingly deep. […]

Continue Reading →

August Days

August days are a recipe for longing: they bring scented dust and dew, the first nocturnal kiss upon veined leaves that are beginning to resemble my mother’s hands. Though much of summer lies ahead, autumn is creeping in, feigning patience with vineyard rows, gently coaxing the fruiting bough, Soft the yellows, purples, reds, soft the folds upon her unmade bed, soft the light on her faded gown, My mother holds […]

Continue Reading →