Thursday, August 27, 2015

This summer in review


Your father, old now, the same old pictures on the wall.
And you ask him, you ask and ask and ask and ask him.

Life, he says, he says, life, is one grand clue.
His eyes, his eyes, his eyes then close.

Brown grasses, grasses, grasses.
A sky that’s almost blue.

And you ask him, ask and ask and ask and ask him.
Given, he says, to you.

Grasses, brown, brown, brown, brown, brown grasses.
True, as each and every fragment passes.

How hang the leaves, once dancing.
How soft, the heart’s own hue.

And you ask and ask and ask and ask him.
Am I your father now?

Your lips, your lips don’t move.
Comes blessed his answer, who, who, who, are you?

Comes blessed his smile, too.
And comes to rest, this summer in review.



2 comments:

Jan said...

This was beautiful, William...very beautiful.
As I read each line I kept thinking of one phrase...
"echos from the past, past, past"~

William Michaelian said...

And now I’m thinking, so glad you’re present, present, present. Thank you, Jan.