Michael Keshigian


The women share a secret,
until we enter their circle,
when they think we can't see.
We ask them for a hint
but they lower their eyes,
smile delicately
from the corners of their mouths.
It only increases our desire
to know.
Perhaps it was something
they did long ago,
consequences notwithstanding,
the memory possesses
a lingering sweetness.
This might explain their camaraderie,
the way they rest their chins
on the curl of their fists,
stare at each other
with intense intrigue.
Tell us one story
or give us a clue.
Whisper a sentence
or even a word
that might carry
in the warm summer breeze
when you close your eyes
to remember.


Barefoot in white slacks
and her husband's sweater,
she plays the piano most seriously,
bungling Mozart with a grimace
then a grin,
the lamplight
flickered unnoticed upon her fingers.

The field from where her progeny
once thrived has withered,
grown voices and opinions
have fled the confines of the arena
where music,
like a tranquilized tiger,
swerves again.

Her foot presses pedals,
fingernails carelessly flit keys,
and in her womb
a musician is conceived.
The house is no longer empty,
half full with sound,
she nourishes herself.


Lonely wanderer
casts vague frosty glances
through the window
of my room
and enlivens pristine icicles

weighing on trees and wires
to reflect an indifferent
detached smile
which glows amid the black cloudless sky.
Were I to darken my attire

wear an ashen shirt
which resembles your face
could I follow your icy path
and meander beyond the confines of being?
Between the worm holes

and black tunnels of question?
Become more wise than foolish?
Then vanish from sight
with realization
at daylight's peek?

Mike Keshigian's poems have appeared in Sahara, Bellowing Ark, ByLine Magazine, Fairfield Review, Red River Review, Sierra Nevada College Review and numerous other online and written journals. He has had 3 chapbooks published and multiple Pushcart Prize nominations. He is a musician and educator, performing and teaching on the collegiate level in the Boston.

Main Page