William Michaelian

Poems, Notes, and Drawings

Tag Archive for ‘Memory’

The Door Swings In, The Door Swings Out

We had been away from the falls for several weeks. But when we returned to find them recharged by the rain, it was like a meeting of old friends, the kind of gathering one sees in the brick coffeehouses downtown, where tables are pushed together and chairs have coats draped over them like the ferns and moss that cling to the bare maples and line the canyon walls. Mist everywhere. […]

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Dream

I love the droughts in writing, the minutes that seem like hours, the deserts and barren fields, the dust bowls, the great depressions, the jalopies abandoned by the road like these hobo wayward notes. I love raindrops that take years to fall and then land acres apart, if they land at all. I love the peace of a dry well, the coyote’s howl, free for the taking.   Dream The […]

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As I Recall

A few days ago, a red-tailed hawk swooped past the window and landed in the small bare maple opposite the front door. Not a very large bird, it was still too big for its chosen perch. With each move it made, it was poked and brushed by twigs. Finally it braved the maze and dropped to the ground. After investigating the muddy dahlia bed, it flew off across the driveway […]

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My Mother Saved Our Baby Shoes

Each day, I give thanks for the unknown and unexplained.   My Mother Saved Our Baby Shoes My mother saved our baby shoes, two handfuls of wedding rice in delicate nets, flowers, roses, brittle stems, in her cedar chest. And in all her years of not remembering, I wonder which she forgot the best. I wonder which she smiled at when she sat here dreaming in her make-believe and present-tense. […]

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Symphonies and Bridges — Two Poems

Another thing I’ve noticed while writing is that when the subject at hand brings something else I’ve written to mind, that something else is far less likely to be a piece from the last two or three years. For whatever reason, my thoughts drift back to older associations, as if the paths that take me there are more familiar and well worn. This could be a sign that my memory […]

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Auld Lang Syne

All these years later, I still find sadness, beauty, and hope in this little Bojangles of a poem. While we look back, let us go forth into the world, even if it’s where we’ve been all along.   Auld Lang Syne I haven’t been this drunk in a long time, said the poet to his dog who had died years ago. But the story really begins when daylight licks his […]

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Sweet Kisses

Fifty years ago, when my father went to visit a farm neighbor dying of cancer, he heard him howling with pain the moment he entered our little hometown hospital. I was born in that hospital. When we were in high school, a close friend of mine died in that hospital. Three of our four children were born in that hospital. In that hospital, my appendix was removed. My wife worked […]

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Christmas Dream

Christmas Dream

  Christmas Dream By the time we had finished unwrapping my father, we were all very old and yet for all that he still blinked and smiled and said,                   “We need more wood on the fire.” Songs and Letters, December 24, 2008

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Hands

I remember the night our first child was born, and how her hand wasn’t big enough to wrap around my finger. I remember watching my wife’s hand in its weightless caress, communicating with this new life. I remember, too, being patted on the head for my youthful idealism, which I have since learned is an acute form of common sense.   Hands Imagine a world where faces and voices are […]

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Knowledge and Doubt

It’s true that in terms of my past, I have not written about everything. And it’s just as true that I have. I might not have written about this or that directly. But what I have learned from my puny struggles in life sheds light on what I do write about, and ultimately choose to preserve. The challenges, incidents, and embarrassments are all well represented. And this is not a […]

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