William Michaelian

Poems, Notes, and Drawings

Tag Archive for ‘Aging’

Cricket in the Rhododendron

I used to have a printer, and reams of paper on hand. Envelopes and postage stamps. Now I have a cricket in the rhododendron. I have the things I’ve said, and what I thought they meant. But only as I do or don’t remember them. A closet full of books I no longer need or wear. The coat that fit me when I had short beard and hair. Dust enough […]

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Enough Revolution for One Day

Two glasses of water, a pause online to say hello, then a nice brisk run in the dark. A tiny bit of coffee — it seems, of late, I’ve lost my taste for it. Three or four sips is enough. It may be, after all these years, the body and mind have decided to move on. A half-cup of quinoa cooked and cooling for this week’s salad. Before I complain […]

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As Simple as This

Age? Health? Good fortune? Whatever the reason, I’ve come to see life this way: there’s no greater wealth than this moment, this breath, and this body. In that light, there can be only one goal, one challenge, one mission worth pursuing: to make what remains of it an act of giving, while wishing absolutely nothing for myself. Call it impossible. Call it a prayer. And though I may forget, or […]

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Step by Step

At seven millimeters, my new huaraches are the thinnest, most comfortable I’ve worn. And after a few walks to get used to them, I’ve now taken them for a run. These sandals will likely be the last bit of footwear I use, as I gradually ease into walking and running entirely barefoot — because I’ve realized that for me, the best, most comfortable, most reliable shoes I can wear are […]

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Virtuoso

Whatever the medium or craft — music, language, carpentry, working with the soil — the virtuoso is, first and foremost, a life-long learner — a child in an aging body whose heart and mind are an image in kind of the flowering cosmos. If it were only a matter of skill, the word virtuoso wouldn’t have the meaning it does. The world would be overrun with them. And yet that, […]

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Curious and Beautiful

A curious thing, and to me a beautiful thing, is how all of this life, and yet none of it, seems real. For me it’s a vivid, personal fiction, a novel, a poem. The days are a series of pages, full of lines and paragraphs connected by a common thread, and that thread is the familiar idea of myself, which I’ve been creating and imagining from moment to moment since […]

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Occasional Pieces

So far as it pertains to collecting and preserving what I feel are the best of my old writings and drawings, the time has come — if it has not passed already — to lay this work to rest. As such, I have tried to make Poems, Notes, and Drawings cohesive and readable from beginning to end. In that regard, I think of it as a book; I also see […]

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