Poetry, notes, and drawings by William Michaelian
William - ...and I picturea small wind storm, people working the arid soil. A man looks up, his face streaked with sweat rivulets.I like coming here for your poems and drawings. Allways you paint a picture for me.Thank you.~robert
Thanks, Robert. Sweat and arid ground in this image, but yours is a rich, fertile mind.
As I read your words my mind drew a sketch of the worn out farmers from the dust bowl era. Everything turning to dust even the dust itself becoming a finer grain blowing with the slightest breeze. Dried up wells and riverbeds their cracked and arid dirt a reflection of human skin that has been out in the hot summer sun to long...I need a tall glass of iced tea right now but I love how you get my thoughts stirred up William :)
Janice, your beautiful interpretation has me wanting ice tea too. I love where you and Robert are going with this.Thank you, Laura. As you know, there are those times when memory, nature, and emotion are one, as if they are a kind of flower.
As is usually the case, I really enjoyed what you wrote in your bio ("About"). As you say, the ease and immediacy of blogs never ceases to amaze me.
Thanks, Kevin. I love it. And as proof of that immediacy, let me add that I also loved watering our squash, peppers, and eggplant this morning, which are finally coming to life with the (somewhat) warmer weather we’re having. The tomatoes, though, are still lagging behind. I might have to raid yours some night when you’re out taking those magical pictures of yours. After all, what’s a thousand miles between friends?
mmmm~imagesdrawn so easilyin so few wordsand yetthe dust,it remains.xoerin
Erin, that dust, once in my lungs, is now in my bones.
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