William Michaelian

Poems, Notes, and Drawings

Without Looking Down

Yesterday afternoon I saw a great brown hawk, perhaps three hundred feet from the ground, standing on air, facing a cold spring wind, with its wings open wide. When he allowed it to take him, even eternity was surprised. Dark gray clouds. Rain. Clear blue sky. While I was out, I could not always see him, but I could hear his cries.

A storm in the pine: two startled mourning doves.

March 7, 2021

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Categories: New Poems & Pieces

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