Wednesday 5 May 2021

2 Poems by Michael Keshigian


All day,  
every day,
through the night
while you sleep,
dust floats upon airy parchment
to silently describe the moment
and soon
another page is complete.
Early, when it’s quiet,
the faint sound
you think you hear
is a streak of sunlight
that sings
the chilly dawn breeze
into a story.  
Even snowfall covers
a page of barren countryside
with white ink,
transforming blank to verse,
rain erases most mistakes.
On a bright day
you may catch hand shadows
swirling fair weather fonts
into words
in front of the sun,
creating a gust
that inspires leaves and twigs
to choreograph the landscape.
When the inkwell runs dry,
the rattling pen resounds
a thunderous clap
and the dark hand pulls
upon the spigot moon.

In the cool fragrance
of Spring breath,
minute buds
and tender seeds awaken,
splashing trees
and barren landscape
to a verdure froth,
the fertile air of renewal,
invading the blue dome on chariots
which dash toward the gold medallion
well beyond the green arrows
of giant white pines.
The lingering snow melts,
awash with winter memories,
a river of arctic mornings,
frost bitten windshields,
and dangling icicles,
which like transparent pens
of invisible ink,
scribble disappearing messages
upon the emerging sidewalk.


Michael Keshigian, from New Hampshire, had his fourteenth poetry collection, What To Do With Intangibles, released in January, 2020 by  He has been published in numerous national and international journals and has appeared as feature writer in twenty publications with 7 Pushcart Prize and 2 Best Of The Net nominations. (

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