William Michaelian

Poems, Notes, and Drawings


Cloudy and calm, with an occasional glimpse of the moon. All through the neighborhood, the robins were silent this morning.

While I was growing up, there was one telephone in the house. It was in the kitchen. When we went somewhere, to stay for a week in the mountains, for instance, no one could call us. And while we were away, the only clock we had was my father’s dollar pocket watch.

In 1963, when my father bought a pickup to use on the farm, his father wondered why it had a radio. Wasn’t the heater extravagant enough?

July 17, 2022


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Categories: A Few More Scratches

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