William Michaelian

Poems, Notes, and Drawings

A Few More Scratches

So many things live only for a day — flowers, insects, rain, and sometimes people — yet see how different, how strange the world would be without them. Love it all. Never look away.

To embrace, rather than resist, the ephemeral nature of sharing one’s thoughts online.

Helped, and also haunted by, mechanical memory. The neat, efficient archive (see cemetery rows, honeycomb) is for oneself, for the idle many, the rare few.

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A Few More Scratches

Feet, legs, arms, hands.

The more one wears, the more one lives.

Dust, pages, sticks, pens.

Little boy falls, gets up again.

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Categories: A Few More Scratches

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3 replies

  1. July has been exceedingly hot and dry. The garden and my spirit, sun-scorched. I’m grateful for this unexpected, rejuvenating summer shower ~ ~ ~

    Liked by 1 person

    • Ah, then you would have liked the one here that started the day. We’ve had exactly three “hot” days so far this year — hot, that is, in that the temperature reached ninety or slightly above. The garden has had its slowest start ever and is finally picking up steam. Tiny cucumbers, tiny tomatoes, tiny peppers are now visible. Current temperature: sixty-two degrees. Humidity high, doors and windows open. A few minutes ago, while making a pass through the garden, a hummingbird stopped to say hello, not three feet away, then moved to the cedar for a sip of water. All’s well ~ ~ ~

      Liked by 1 person

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