Thursday, January 28, 2010

Rags and Bones


When I write, I still think in terms of acres and rows, shovels, shears, and plows. Early in the morning, I hear voices in the barn, see ghosts by the well. Sometimes, when a whole day goes by and all I’ve done is broken up some good dry kindling, I think of my old man, who once said farming is what I was meant to do. I think of his old man, too. Some things, like love, you never do outgrow. Farming for the art of it. The need to sweat. The smell of open ground. It’s all rags and bones, I know. Then evening calls and the birds all settle in. Leaves. I hear them whispering, by the thousands.


Recently Linked: My thanks to Sherri for signing on as a follower of Recently Banned Literature. Welcome!

Update:
In the Forum: absence of anything.

8 comments:

RUDHI - Chance said...

Times go by and we stay high, I would like to say...

Joseph Hutchison said...

I wonder if we outgrow anything! It's all there in the layers. Stanley Kunitz wrote, "Live in the layers, not on the litter." You do that, beautifully. Thanks again....

Conrad DiDiodato said...

I agree, Joseph!

It's in the strata, layers

And the inherent or intrinsic tendency of the poet to look for verses there, "whispering, by the thousands."

ALeks said...

The smell of open ground,with my eyes shut tight I could tell is it more clay than black,is it the ground with traces of ancient woods or morass,again a vivid and strong picture,very familiar to me,thank you!My heart would be empty without these simple "ground rules",hope you are doing fine.
Aleksandra

William Michaelian said...

Rudhi, I like your message!

Joe, I appreciate your comment, especially since this piece was written in the dark, literally and, I’m sure, at least somewhat figuratively.

Conrad, “whispering” is indeed appropriate, as the sound and writing of this piece seemed to arrive together, with the message itself the happy outcome. To put it another way, I didn’t know what I was going to say until I’d said it.

Aleksandra, you’re right about the kind of ground. I’m not surprised. Thank you.

Elisabeth said...

Just plain exquisite writing here, William and so evocative. You never seem to run short of new words and new ideas each day. You are amazing.

William Michaelian said...

I appreciate that, Elisabeth. But these words and ideas could be the result of a strange medical condition. I like to think so, anyway. Maybe some sort of birth defect...

ALeks said...

Yeah wright,trow it on a birth defect,Im smiling now,I did that too,as one born as a " bad seed" to start with,glorious excuse for me being strange",goes good with being an artist and reads good too on my portofolio but still,you are graciously talented young man,you know very well where to pick your fruit,if Im being understandably not mistaken.My fever got back,so again antibiotics and few days no computer,darn!

Waver is my word verification,look Im waving from over here on my handwoven flying carpet !
Good day to you and yours,bye,bye!
Aleksandra