The celebration of rain is past. The wind has changed. A great part of the moisture has been reclaimed by the sky gods. The air is smoky again. But it is not as smoky as before, at least here at ground level. Instead, there is a high haze thick enough to keep the sunny fall days several degrees cooler than they would be. One can feel the smoke. The robins and nuthatches have returned to the birdbath. They gather around the man with the hose, as if he were Langston Hughes reading his poems to a crowd of poor folks tired of poverty, lynchings, and Jim Crow. Sitting on the edge of the birdbath, not five feet away, one nuthatch took a sip and looked me directly in the eye. Such soft, rich colors he wore in his graceful, curious vibration, pulsing with life.
October 1, 2020
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Water, Clear and Cold
water, clear and cold
upon the stones,
and you, abrasive,
angry, and alone,
proud of what you’ve done,
your time come,
and gone,
the water, moving on.
Recently Banned Literature, July 23, 2016
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Categories: New Poems & Pieces, Recently Banned Literature
Tags: Birdbaths, Cool Water, Diaries, Fall, Fire, Forest Fires, Jim Crow, Journals, Langston Hughes, Lynchings, Nuthatches, Poems, Poetry, Poverty, Rain, Robins, Smoke, Stones, The American Civil War, Wildfires
William Michaelian 