Is the early-morning tapping of woodpeckers a form of communication? Is it song?
Is the mind’s ear the source of an echo?
And what of the mind’s eye? Is that where we go when we’re gone?
Canvas 1,176 — March 14, 2018
Anonymous
I see you on a swing in a doorway
between two failing timbers,
caught by an echo
in the black night beyond.
Recently Banned Literature, May 23, 2011
[ 371 ]
Yin and Yang I put out the cat; that’s one too many, the night replied. Songs and Letters, March 19, 2008 [ 367 ]
The written word and studied line, or a sweet caress, in tenderness, the last objection set aside? [ 359 ]
There is, for me, the feeling that they have always existed,
and have only been waiting for me to notice.
Their patience is a lesson in itself.
Knowing we may travel a time together,
and that they will likely outlive me, are things I love.
And so, if this is drawing, it’s from a deep, hidden well.
A reservoir of dreams. The fragility of health.
Three for the Road — April 2, 2019
[ 340 ]
Canvas 1,234
They arrived almost immediately after I had awakened
from a surprisingly deep after-lunch sleep.
Or maybe they were already here,
and I am the one who arrived.
Or it might be all of us were away,
and fate arranged our simultaneous return.
March 31, 2019
[ 338 ]
Canvas 1,233 — March 29, 2019
The cherry blossom part of me flowers and falls.
The part that is a cloud stays awhile and goes.
That which is the earth is mud upon your shoes.
And now I am your cup, waiting to be filled.
“Tea Time”
Recently Banned Literature, March 22, 2017
[ 336 ]
For the first time in ages, I wound my father’s wristwatch, which I keep on my work table next to his brother’s old briar pipe. The trusty Hamilton started ticking immediately. The tiny secondhand, set in a circle built into the face where the 6 should be, started making its way around. Now, several hours later, I see the watch is still running — as am I, apparently, though I […]
2017
Canvas 1,037 — September 25, 2017
[ 315 ]
Diary To be an autumn leaf pressed between the pages of a lover’s notebook and hear her say “He must be gray by now.” Songs and Letters, September 20, 2008 [ 314 ]
Canvas 287 — March 4, 2011
The Pond
I see faces floating
on the pond:
which, today,
will be my own?
Rain arrives
before the answer:
the pond grows
and grows.
Songs and Letters, December 28, 2006
Another Song I Know, Cosmopsis Books, 2007
[ 311 ]
William Michaelian 