William Michaelian

Poems, Notes, and Drawings

Tag Archive for ‘Butterflies’

And Here I Sit Without a Flower

On the road, the notion of time evaporates so quickly, I have to stop and think to know what day it is, and even then I’m not quite sure. A minute, mile, or hour farther on, the fact is gone again, along with its meaning and its need. We left on Monday. That much I know. But I hardly prize the information. If today is Thursday, the name is the […]

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Blueberries Two

We’ve heard a number of times that a solitary blueberry bush won’t produce fruit on its own, that at least one other must be growing and blooming nearby to ensure pollination. And yet we have one plant and it produces fruit, and the nearest others that we’re aware of are hundreds of feet away at a house one street to the south and two houses to the west, with structures, […]

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For Emily

Faulty grammar aside, there’s more here than meets the I. But Emily Dickinson? What made me think of her?   For Emily If the past is a flower, and has its seasons and dies, what of the seeds it leaves behind? and what of you, and I, dear butterfly?

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Edwin and the Rattlesnake

I think I remember hearing many years ago that my grade school friend and neighbor, Edwin, was bitten by a rattlesnake in the foothills east of our little hometown in California. But I have no idea who might have told me, and I haven’t seen Edwin since before then. The last time was in 1975, in the bowling alley at the student union at the university in Fresno. He was […]

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I Find Him Eating Butterflies

I find him eating butterflies. They’re beautiful, he says. If I eat enough of them, I’ll be beautiful too. He stuffs a monarch in his mouth, fuzz clinging to his lips. I hear the flowers weep. He begins to eat them too, stray petals on his shoes. A hummingbird arrives — dips her bill into his eye, takes a long, melancholy drink. What to think — is he crazy, or […]

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Now and Then

Or the time after the war my father walked the horse and plow several miles to the north side of town and another farm to do a job for two dollars — that plow there behind the house, surrounded by next year’s bluebells, if you can imagine them — or him, smiling at his good fortune and at the vineyard beyond — less one brother. Or just the other day, […]

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