William Michaelian

Poems, Notes, and Drawings

Tag Archive for ‘Stars’

A Happening

The morning began with a robin leading the way, From birch, to maple, to fig, invisible to me, singing, My favorite tree! My favorite tree! My favorite tree! Or so it seemed as I ran in the calm and misty dark, So it seemed, so it seemed, so it seemed, Each of us a playful happening, Like every leaf and star. . [ 1450 ]

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A Turn In the Dance

After a slow start, and a slow run up the hill, the body said, Alright, enough nonsense, let’s go. And so off we ran, pushing beyond the comfortable limit of breath, and then beyond again and again, finding exhilaration at each new level, never once needing to open the mouth. See? You thought you had forgotten. Forty-seven degrees. Stars and clouds. The cool, rainy weather continues. I’ve been wearing them […]

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Each Other’s Creation

Yesterday morning I ran four miles, and when I was done I felt I could have easily run farther. It had rained again during the night and the atmosphere was heavy and moist, with a light fog. I kept a slow pace, free and easy. This morning I ran about a mile and a quarter in a very strong wind. My pace was still free and easy, but much faster. […]

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The Fool on the Hill

Dry pavement. Thirty-four degrees. Stars, clouds, fog. I was passed by a young runner this morning whose footsteps were so loud they started a dog barking. He was on the sidewalk, I was in the middle of the road. Someday, if the young runner is lucky, he will be an old runner. If he’s even luckier, he’ll be a running elder, prized for his wisdom in all the villages around. […]

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Maybe This Is Why

One street over, there’s a light that’s crowded ’round by a flowering wild cherry. Running past, the stars still out, it looks like the light itself ’s in bloom. Maybe this is why the robins sing at such an early hour — and why, When my heart and lungs are full with scent and sound, My feet, at least for a little while, don’t quite touch the ground. . [ […]

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As Every Dandelion Knows

Anger, irritation, frustration, impatience; negative thoughts, unkind thoughts; worry, anxiety, fear, a desire for control — each brings tension to the body. Not only does this cause discomfort, illness, and wear, it becomes part of one’s daily physical and verbal language, thus amounting to a kind of communicable disease. During my run yesterday morning and the morning before, I heard an owl each time I passed through the street just […]

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Without Arms

A slow run in the cold starry hour before dawn — up the hill, past the old couple’s crocuses still closed for the night, looking like color specialty shops where love models scarves and little boys wonder about their mother’s soft moles — to the corner, and then an eastward turn, ’neath streetlights that die as they burn — proud and solemn, trees without arms — without arms, without arms, […]

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The Wanderer

Twenty-five degrees. A pleasant run. I did have on a light pair of gloves. But the feet were free, and the toes, you see, came happily along. The wanderer roves from east to west, in his wake the icy wind — he gathers stars in his tattered sack, shows his back then lights his lamp again. . [ 1384 ]

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Space

Running through space, and with each breath the same space running through me, then becoming space again. The body passing through space, feeling space yield without breaking or being divided, fluid like water. Space clinging to the skin and entering through the pores. Space in the blood. Space in the cells. Space the distance between stars. Uphill and down, to stop at the door. Quietly, now, not to disturb. Space […]

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