Canvas 1,249
Canvas 1249 February 19, 2022 . [ 1379 ]
Sweet Sleep and Bare Feet
Foolish Questions
On the tracks to the east, a train’s heading north. A long train. North through the fog, beneath a full moon. The moon that kept us up most of the night. Light in the room. Light between the closed blinds. But it’s the silence up there that I wonder about. I can’t help thinking how strong the moon must be. Is that why it’s round? To keep it from being […]
Living Script
I thought I’d write a little something, and was about to begin, when I saw an ant climbing the computer screen. It was beautiful, a bit of living script on a blank white page. As gently as I could, I picked it up, carried it to the door, took it outside, and let it crawl from my fingertip onto the step. And so now I’ve done two things: I’ve helped […]
Short Poem, Long Poem
short poem, long poem soft low stop go then now my father’s last breath . [ 1376 ]
When Gravity Meets Memory
On the trail a few days ago, I saw a very large cottonwood leaf, a brittle survivor of winter. It struck me as a kind of landmark, something that would always be there, even in its eventual absence, and in mine, its brown face held together by distinct veins, waiting patiently for an ant to walk by. I’ve thought of it each day since. Next time, if there is a […]
How Light
No philosophy or religion — only the wish to see how light I can be — like these little birds who eat only what they need — and keep moving . [ 1374 ]
Victim and Hero
Grateful upon waking. Grateful at rest. Grateful with each step and each breath. Without gratitude, what would I be? I would be both victim and hero — an egotistical survivor of my own self-chosen, self-made suffering. . [ 1373 ]
Ten Horses, No Sails
I haven’t raked the leaves from under the maples, or those that are piled deep beneath the big rhododendron by the front door. What’s living in, on, and under them plays a far more important role in the local ecology than any so-called neatness I might achieve. The walk is swept. The flowerbed is ready for spring. That’s enough tidiness. Behind the house, the irises are pushing, and an abundance […]
Running Roads and Trails
Having comfortably extended my morning run to about a mile and a quarter, I’d like next to try the two-and-a-half-mile trail by Goose Lake and the river. And then, eventually, if I haven’t completely lost my mind, or even if I have, or have already, I’d like to run the trails through the mossy canyon, alongside the creek, and past the falls. We’ve met or been passed by runners many […]
Self-Improvement
I wonder if there is anything more ludicrous than the idea of self-improvement. Imagine looking at a newborn baby and thinking such a beautiful, perfect thing can be better than it is. Imagine believing so strongly in the idea of imperfection that one is bound to see it everywhere and in everything. And then imagine teaching by example this tragic outlook to a blossoming, perfect child. . [ 1370 ]
William Michaelian 