William Michaelian

Poems, Notes, and Drawings

Tag Archive for ‘Journals’

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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Ghost Frames

Late yesterday afternoon, a thunderstorm came to call. Naturally, I opened the door and let her in. One by one and all at once, she explored the dim gray rooms. And now, where she’s been is where I am, and where she is is where I will be, soon. Ghost frames, windows, walls. Leave them up, or take them down. Shake out the linen and the quilts. June 27, 2019

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The Sunlight on My Mother’s Face

Well before daylight, in the sublime quiet, reading the letters of a thoughtful young man who later lost his life in the Civil War at the age of twenty-nine: Charles Russell Lowell, nephew of the great writer and poet, James Russell Lowell. Then, suddenly, raindrops — so few in number it reminds me of my mother sprinkling water on her ironing. June 26, 2019   The Sunlight on My Mother’s […]

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Of Lives and Letters

The Life and Letters of John Muir

All too often, those of us who call ourselves writers speak of the books we read as if their very mention were an indication of our learning, depth, and worth. I speak about them because I love them, knowing full well that even after they are read, I will be at a loss to explain the profound or mean effect they have had on me, my understanding, and my thinking. […]

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If It’s a Heart You’re Looking For

My secret today is a passage I read very early this morning. Or is it the moon, a day past full, that lit the dark night of your longing? June 19, 2019   If It’s a Heart You’re Looking For If it’s a heart you’re looking for, the child cried, take mine. I’ll grow another, and a better, and a bigger. Then the child died. And the child’s words came […]

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Still and Again

The towhees around our house are quite friendly. Not only do they not avoid me, some seem downright eager for conversation. Within just a few feet, they stop and look at me, then hop about in the ferns and moss and rhododendrons without wariness or alarm. Late in the afternoon two days ago, while I was watering the hostas not far from the birdbath, a male with beautiful markings alternated […]

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A Little Less Certainty

The grapes are in bloom. And everything else a child knows, but cannot tell. June 13, 2019   A Little Less Certainty My philosophy? a little less certainty — yes, like a kiss that might never be, so sweet to savor, you see, once in the way and the sway of it, the light and the day and the play of it. Even alone, had you and I known the […]

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