William Michaelian

Poems, Notes, and Drawings

Without Arms

A slow run in the cold starry hour before dawn —

up the hill, past the old couple’s crocuses still closed for the night,

looking like color specialty shops where love models scarves

and little boys wonder about their mother’s soft moles —

to the corner, and then an eastward turn, ’neath streetlights that die

as they burn — proud and solemn, trees without arms —

without arms, without arms, without arms

in the cold starry hour before dawn,

a slow run, at peace,

without arms.


[ 1401 ]

Categories: Sweet Sleep and Bare Feet

Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

5 replies

  1. That’s lovely –

    Liked by 1 person

  2. The whole poem was beautiful, it’s just the first few words triggered something that was fulfilled in the last couple of lines. Thank you for posting it

    Liked by 1 person

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