William Michaelian

Poems, Notes, and Drawings

New Poems & Pieces

Under Our Hats

I found an ancient pair of worn out jeans and cut them off a little above the knee. I’m wearing them now. I wore them early this morning while working barefoot in the garden and watering our assorted plantings and pots. Dirt, water, sun — childhood. We bought half a crate of strawberries yesterday. They’re called “Ruby June.” For whatever lucky reason, I’ve had more close-up meetings with birds. As […]

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Pas de deux

Coinciding with the arrival of this year’s first hot weather, the grass seed fields are in bloom. The pollen is nigh overwhelming. It’s as if paradise, suddenly aware of herself, has put on too much perfume. She goes to her first dance, where she meets the boy of her dreams. And he’s wearing too much cologne. Everyone in the school cafeteria is sneezing. The band plays on. Later, at home, […]

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Mint

I’ve started a new bed of mint between the apricot tree and the blueberry. It’s from the mint that grew on our old farm, behind my childhood home, where for a time near the edge of the bed there was a small, well-shaded hole in the ground, from which, in the cool of the evening, a fat toad would emerge for a meal and a peek through the mint at […]

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Parade

Two hummingbirds, in and about the maple and juniper: two steps of a hummingbird ladder, climbing into evening. One green apricot, gnawed on while still in its bloom jacket, or soon thereafter, fallen to the ground, possibly nudged by its mates to its doom. Happy for all that. Look at me, Mom, I made it alone. Afternoon, marching backwards. Morning, a bright cheery clown. Dawn, roses in bloom. On the […]

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Around the Bend

A return to the Goose Lake trail, the bees humming, the chamomile deeper, the buttercups and blackberries in bloom. Barefoot for half a mile. While looking at our young cucumber plants, I was visited by a hummingbird, which paused in the air within three feet of me, long enough to say hello. Olive oil is the skin lotion I use. In my life I have planted one olive tree, which […]

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Service

There is no denying the personal benefits derived from living a quiet, aware, meditative life rooted in gratitude. But such a life is incomplete if it is lived only as a selfish or shortsighted means to that end. Ultimately, awareness must be cultivated for the benefit of all, and of everything there is. However busy one is with work, family, and other involvements, there needs to be in one’s daily […]

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June Rain

By holding their leaves upward, the tender young plants in the garden catch even the slightest trace of rain and send it running down their stems and trunks directly to their roots. The cedar, on the other hand, after absorbing what it will, sheds the rest around its perimeter, retaining just enough to show off as jewelry when the sun peeks through the clouds again. Later, as the air warms, […]

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In Simplest Terms

A little before four this morning, it was cloudy with only one star briefly visible; then, a few minutes later, between the birches and firs, through a break in the clouds just above the neighbor’s second-story roof, we caught a sustained glimpse of the full lunar eclipse, as the shadow passed and the moon began to emerge. Now there is a robin singing from the chimney-top. It comes to mind […]

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Now You Know

Ingratitude — pull that thread, and the whole fabric will come undone. Pain, strife, loss; the birth of our children and my very first poem; all of the sad and glad decisions, and the reasons behind them, unremembered, unfathomed, unknown; embarrassment and fear; compulsiveness and anger; pride, arrogance, guilt, shame — I am grateful for them all. I have learned from each, and am learning still. And so, this I […]

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Bare Feet and Chamomile

Early yesterday morning, after we had listened for several minutes to an immense choir of birds at Goose Lake and were back on the main path, I took off my sandals and walked a fairly long stretch on my sixty-five-year-old bare feet. They were so thrilled by the sensation of the cool earth and budding chamomile that, if they had eyes, they might have wept for joy. This gave way […]

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