Friday, February 11, 2011

About Face


Easy to dismiss as drawings, but less so as ghosts and lives;
Those we carry with us, and those we try to hide;

A poem of lines abides by where they’re broken;
The face arrives before they’re spoken;

Stars tell trees what these tell me;
No more grace, or less, than we believe.

















Canvases 201, 202, 203
February 9, 2011

[click to enlarge]



Library Notes: Added Carl Sandburg’s Cornhuskers to my collection at LibraryThing.

8 comments:

Old 333 said...

Ah, particularly the last line. Thanks, William -

P

William Michaelian said...

I hope more in terms of content than relief. Thanks, Peter.

-K- said...

Reading (and re-reading) "About Face" was a wonderful way to start my day.

William Michaelian said...

Was it? Thanks, Kevin. I appreciate it.

Indigo said...

Ghost are memories haunting our blood, we live the lives they no longer do.

Wonderful haunting prose. (Hugs)Indigo

William Michaelian said...

Indigo, thank you. And thanks for your beautiful, perceptive note.

erin said...

Looking at your faces, I went from here,

A poem of lines abides by where they’re broken

to wondering on the lines of a face and what resides where they're broken.

Your gentle pen suggests when we don't even know with what we hear.

xo
erin

William Michaelian said...

One thing it suggests to me and which I in turn suggest is that the faces are written every bit as much as the poems; and that the poems are drawn every bit as much as the faces; and that where the lines are broken are where others begin, or are imagined.