William Michaelian

Poems, Notes, and Drawings

Tag Archive for ‘Robins’

In the Forest Heard

Almost two miles into our walk near Goose Lake, where the path winds around an open field, we saw two coyotes trotting along on the bare ground, their reddish-brown coats gleaming with health in the morning sun. Headed in the direction we were, they paused and looked our way. Then we all rounded the bend, and they set off without urgency on another course, as if they might have been […]

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Bright Red Robin

The star forgets my name — the crocus just the same — But one thing they remember — or so it sometimes seems — To shine and bloom again — to bloom and shine — As if I were here — almost — and only meant to sing —

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The Old Language

The grapes are ready, two bunches pick’d, and none denied the robin. The hand’s unsteady, the spirit’s quick, the moment’s soon forgotten. August 19, 2019   The Old Language The old man stood near the edge of the road, waiting for his grandson to get home from school. Seeing the bright-yellow bus come in his direction always made his heart glad. Soon the bus would stop in front of the […]

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Five Crows, One Limb

How long has it been since I felt offended? I wonder. I really don’t know. Who, or what, is there to offend? Is there a noble concept of myself in danger of being toppled? Do I have a religious or philosophical point to argue, or a political position to defend? No. I am just a child in an old man’s body, up, in the morning, once again; up, to see […]

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All of This

Two years — since then, who knows how many times I’ve seen her grown children looking for worms in the wet grass after a rain. “Is that the man? Do you remember what Mama said?” “Yes. She said, You don’t have to be afraid of him.”   All of This the nights are growing longer and the robin watching from her nest in the fig tree leaves fall in a […]

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