William Michaelian

Poems, Notes, and Drawings


Another hour spent outside watering in the smoke, which is much thicker this morning than yesterday. The air, though, is noticeably cooler. The windy time has passed; I saw several spiders calmly working on their webs. I also heard the squawking of a scrub jay, and a brief exchange between nuthatches. A squirrel caught my eye; like an ordinary pedestrian, it was making its way along the sidewalk across the street. A few minutes later, I saw, too, a very slow jogger, and one regular walker. The walker was moving faster than the jogger. If their days were sands in an hourglass, I wonder which would live longer. I suppose that’s like asking which is heavier, a ton of feathers, or a ton of bricks? From an old farmer’s perspective, this much can be said: the ash that is falling will be good for the soil.

If I were to go back outside now and tilt the street, all the marbles would roll off. Why do I say this? Because a street-sweeper just passed by, kicking up a huge cloud of ash and dust. To operate a street-sweeper in these conditions, the driver must have lost his marbles — unless, of course, he had none to begin with. Marbleless, darling, simply marbleless.

Spokesman. Smokesman. Idle. Idyll. Idol. Addled.

September 10, 2020


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Categories: Everything and Nothing, New Poems & Pieces

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