Spirits
in this room,
no door by which
they enter, no urge
for them to go.
Warm clothes
and conversation,
footsteps on the stairs,
soft their breath
I feel now.
For lips so dry,
a glass of tea
they sing
beside a bright
enameled stove.
For eyes so blind,
a gathering
of patient hands
shines light
upon my brow.
They know me well,
an orphan from
the street below,
a spirit like
their own.
December 1, 2005
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Also by William Michaelian
POETRY
Winter Poems
ISBN: 978-0-9796599-0-4
52 pages. Paper.
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Another Song I Know
ISBN: 978-0-9796599-1-1
80 pages. Paper.
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Cosmopsis Books
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