William Michaelian

Poems, Notes, and Drawings

Tag Archive for ‘Running’

Earth Natives

Moonlight, streetlight, starlight. I saw the skunk again, just as I was starting my run. With its tail held high, it was crossing the street from the yard of one neighbor to that of another. When I was done, I met it again coming down the driveway of the house just west of ours. This time its tail was down. In no hurry at all, it crossed the street again. […]

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Combinations

Another early-morning skunk visit: when I opened our front door at four, our fluffy friend was passing by. When I went out at four-thirty to run, its scent was strong in the air. When I returned, the scent was gone — which is to say, it had become part of the breathable atmosphere we all share, thus making us part skunk. Stardust and skunk. Roses, too. Violence and intelligence do […]

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Applause

Late yesterday evening a very active thunderstorm passed through this part of the valley, moving northwest from the Cascades, bringing with it a spectacular display of lightning and enough thunder to wake the dead. And yet somehow, I fell asleep before it was over — but not before I heard the music of heavy rain landing on the roof and on the plants outside. That, and being generally exhausted from […]

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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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A Dewy Understanding

A slow run, the last sliver of moon just rising, the streets quiet and calm. With the arrival of the summer heat, our former high temperatures are now the lows, even as the days, little by little, grow shorter, and the cloudless, starry nights, as if by their own magic, add unto themselves. The grass in front of the house has yielded again to clover. The bare feet rejoice in […]

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Dream Notes

Thyme is blooming in abundance along the Goose Lake trail; also Queen Anne’s Lace and poison hemlock. There is less chicory this year. We saw sixteen rabbits on our walk of two and a half miles, watching us and waiting in the path, until their last-second run for cover. Tansy. Blackberries. Thistles. Twice, we ran for a short distance. The volunteer cherry tomatoes at the foot of our garden space […]

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The Miracle of Your Breath

The waning moon; a gentle arc of planets; a run that ends with a sprint — the ship is crowded, aye, but the deck is clear while the stars are out. Yesterday our eldest son climbed Mt. Whitney — a twenty-two-mile hike, four and a half hours to the summit, three hours down, the entire descent in a thunderstorm with hail and icy water all around. Back in Lone Pine, […]

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Luxury

Cloudy and calm, with an occasional glimpse of the moon. All through the neighborhood, the robins were silent this morning. While I was growing up, there was one telephone in the house. It was in the kitchen. When we went somewhere, to stay for a week in the mountains, for instance, no one could call us. And while we were away, the only clock we had was my father’s dollar […]

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