Poetry, notes, and drawings by William Michaelian
Wonderful! I like this especially because around here we have few night spirits: the air's too dry. What spirits we have are dry ones, I mean--not the moist ones out your way--except, of course, in early Spring. Mostly we're beset by dust devils, while your misty spirits make rounds like old time constables. Hence my conclusion that Salem is far more civilized than Indian Hills.
Ah, them night spirits: sail'em, Will, sail'em!
Thanks, boys. Yes, I crossed that bridge long ago — it was either old time constables, or’a’gun....
Your poem here reminds me of something my two year old grandson said to his mother the other day. It was about ten o'clock in the morning when he noticed the moon in the sky.'Tell the moon to sit down, Mama,' he said. 'It's not dark yet. Make it go away.' Such was a little boy's disorientation when he saw the moon of the evening alive in the bright daylight sky. Thanks, William.
Ah. Very nice. And of course I wonder what his mother said, and what the moon thought of her reply.
Post a Comment