Friday, May 10, 2013

First came the meanings


First came the meanings
then their names

chamomile
squirrel

supper table

the boy himself
a pebble down a well

loving the hand that let him go


6 comments:

Jonathan Chant said...

Of all the recent poems this spring, this one is my favourite. Lovely sounds and images.

William Michaelian said...

Jonathan, I’m delighted you feel that way. Thank you.

manik sharma said...

Will,
What a painfully beautiful poem..i've loved hands that have let me go...i guess we all have...

William Michaelian said...

And there is both fright and joy in it. Thank you, Manik.

Paul L. Martin said...

William, your series of poems here seem like the rare jewels of poetry for children with a deeper resonance for those of us who have grown to adulthood. Beautiful, sad, and mindful of spring and the coming summer, which is, of course, the season of childhood. Thank you, my friend.

William Michaelian said...

Thank you, Paul. One of the great joys is yielding to the passing seasons. And yielding to the passing seasons also means yielding to the seasons of our lives, and seeing them with children’s eyes.