This old battlefield is more than a place.
It is a face. It is grace.
Canvas 1,237 — July 13, 2019
No One Asks the Soldiers
When they’re dead,
they all look so familiar.
Songs and Letters, March 20, 2008
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All of This
Two years — since then, who knows how many times I’ve seen her grown children looking for worms in the wet grass after a rain. “Is that the man? Do you remember what Mama said?” “Yes. She said, You don’t have to be afraid of him.” All of This the nights are growing longer and the robin watching from her nest in the fig tree leaves fall in a […]
Between Friends
In a breath, we greet each other from far-flung corners of the world. As if these primitive computers were the only means at our disposal. “Learning to Fly” Recently Banned Literature, December 13, 2010 Between Friends The mind asks, “Have I really made you faster than I am?” And the computer replies, “I am the mind. But the mind is much more than I am.” [ 447 ]
My Second Language
Oh, the things I break into dazzling little pieces. Oh, the faith you have in rainbows. “Love Story” Poems, Slightly Used, February 3, 2011 My Second Language English is my second language, Earth my mother tongue. Near a wild rose on a goat track, An avalanche of sun. A blind afternoon, Guessing about love. I said, “The map is torn.” You said, “Yes. But not ruined.” [ 446 ]
Three
As mirrors, we serve as invitations to the depth we contain. To observe completely, the observer must be absent. But not nonexistent. Let him be outside, admiring the flowers. Better yet, let him be the flowers. She was a snowstorm. He was a pair of little bare feet. They met in the street. [ 445 ]
Spirit-Ship
There are two houses in the neighborhood with star jasmine growing on a trellis by the front door. The plants are in full bloom, and their scent’s so strong, walking through it is like being in a dense fog. Indeed, it seems odd the particles aren’t visible, for one’s spirit-ship is immediately lost on the jasmine sea of it. And yet, passing by in the evening, or early in the […]
Lilies, Heron, Pond
The lilies in Goose Lake are now so vibrant and dense, it’s impossible to distinguish their hunger and thirst, their vital processes, their sap, their marrow, from the water that supports them. One is quite literally the other. The same can be said of the atmosphere immediately above: they have taken quiet possession of the gentle, unsuspecting sky, as a child its mother when she bends over the cradle. The […]
High Tide
Yesterday afternoon, from the front window, I watched a pair of sparrows feeding on the tiny flies, if that’s what they are, in the heavy crop of purslane at the shoreline-edge of the garden. But I think they might also have been eating the purslane itself, because several times one or the other tugged at a leaf with energy and enthusiasm. But only now, after many hours have passed, and […]
The Fifth of July
bumblebee across your path child laughing in the bath so ends the war just like that “Just Like That” Recently Banned Literature, April 30, 2016 The Fifth of July And here are the solemn graves of all the braves afraid of love and peace. [ 441 ]
The Hurry-Up Side of Your Face
You are not happy. You want nothing more than to be happy. You are willing, even, to think you are happy, and to tell everyone how happy you are, even if you are not happy. But doing so makes you sad, and it saddens those whom you tell. Thinking you are happy, you are not happy. You are sad. You are sad, until, one day, a miracle happens, and you […]
William Michaelian 