Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Specimen Days


Yesterday afternoon I was so tired and happy that I drove all the way downtown to one of the used bookstores, didn’t park, didn’t stop, and didn’t go in, then turned around and went home by another route, quite pleased with what I had done. This morning, I already feel the urge to go back. But I won’t, because we’ll be looking after the grandchildren.

I also thought of a poem. It takes place in a pasture. The calves have all been taken away, and their mothers are under a tree in the shade. What are they thinking? Small white butterflies flutter through the weeds. They could be dancers, spirit flags, or me. The stream downslope is lazy now. The horses beyond the bridge know full well they can be wild if and when they want to be. Along the roadside, fallen angels are walking single file, legs, necks, and arms naked to the sun.

I reached out. The poem was done.


6 comments:

Transcend Designs said...

well there certainly are worse things to be addicted to besides books...

how cool what a little excursion can do for the creative mind, even if it is just downtown...

beautiful poem, thanks for that...!

: )

William Michaelian said...

Thanks, Brad! New poem underway: I just came in from a bubble-making session.....

-K- said...

There's just so much here, I don't know where to begin...

I feel like I'm wasting time writing this when I and everyone else could be re-reading the poem itself.

William Michaelian said...

Oh, I don’t know; I kind of like it when you waste your time like this.

Aleksandra said...

I just heard something like this~~let the distraction distract you sometimes,its gift is possible inspiration~~ :O)
i know this feeling and do not have grandchildren to take care of only my plants but im glad to hear when the poem is done...

William Michaelian said...

Like the kids, like the plants,
we are distracted by the sun,
distracted by the poem.