By holding their leaves upward, the tender young plants in the garden catch even the slightest trace of rain and send it running down their stems and trunks directly to their roots. The cedar, on the other hand, after absorbing what it will, sheds the rest around its perimeter, retaining just enough to show off as jewelry when the sun peeks through the clouds again. Later, as the air warms, […]
A little before four this morning, it was cloudy with only one star briefly visible; then, a few minutes later, between the birches and firs, through a break in the clouds just above the neighbor’s second-story roof, we caught a sustained glimpse of the full lunar eclipse, as the shadow passed and the moon began to emerge. Now there is a robin singing from the chimney-top. It comes to mind […]
Your leaves and her hair. Her limbs, your grassy slope to the stream. Your roots. Her sudden rain. Her sunlit path. Your green. And every thing unseen, slowly. Is this what meaning means? Her hair? Your leaves? And all of it so tenderly? Recently Banned Literature, June 11, 2017 . [ 1114 ]
The verbena will. It’s to the edge already now. And that’s what I know about waterfalls. Recently Banned Literature, June 9, 2017 . [ 1113 ]
Ingratitude — pull that thread, and the whole fabric will come undone. Pain, strife, loss; the birth of our children and my very first poem; all of the sad and glad decisions, and the reasons behind them, unremembered, unfathomed, unknown; embarrassment and fear; compulsiveness and anger; pride, arrogance, guilt, shame — I am grateful for them all. I have learned from each, and am learning still. And so, this I […]
Early yesterday morning, after we had listened for several minutes to an immense choir of birds at Goose Lake and were back on the main path, I took off my sandals and walked a fairly long stretch on my sixty-five-year-old bare feet. They were so thrilled by the sensation of the cool earth and budding chamomile that, if they had eyes, they might have wept for joy. This gave way […]
What would I do with the time I spend adding to this collection of poems, notes, and drawings if I were to stop doing so? The first answer that comes to mind is, More of what I already do when I am not doing this. But I think a more inspiring answer would be, Find out. Or maybe even, Find out, and then, do not record it as I usually […]
My sixty-fifth birthday. As much as I love the instrument, I do not play the mandolin. But I can still sing in the key of the place I am in. May 20, 2021 . [ 1109 ]
O, dear one, life is a lightly blown kiss. Can you imagine a love like this? Or will you choose pride, regret, and loneliness? “Which Way the Breeze?” Recently Banned Literature, August 2, 2017 . Thistledown Freedom is the art of letting go, now, of all that will be washed away in the end — our prejudices and cares, our politics, arrogance, religion, and despair, our national identities, our borders, […]
Adults, intent on fences, wishing their backyards were bigger. Children, on swings and trampolines, as light and free as birds. May 16, 2021 . All of Us I climb the corner pine, my cousin ahead on the branch above. It’s our birthday month. Higher and higher. Needles and bark. When we come down, we’re sixty-five. Some say age. I say luck. We run a race. We hide. We throw clods. […]
William Michaelian 