Black Petals Issue #106 Winter, 2023

BP Editorial Page
BP Artists and Illustrators
BP Guidelines
Mars-News, Views and Commentary
The Thing in the Yard: Fiction by Vincent Vurchio
A Forest Green: Fiction by Logan Williams
Clown Safe: Fiction by Taylor Hagood
Home Delivery: Fiction by Jon Adcock
Judith and Bobby Save the World: Fiction by Stephen Tillman
Many Wee Undead: Fiction by Marco Etheridge
Meat Pie: Fiction by Anna Koltes
Mexican Coffee and Burgers: Fiction by Fred Zackel
Leaving: Fiction by Roy Dorman
The Ghost of the Perfect Hotdog: Fiction by Mark Miller
The Illustrated Woman: Fiction by Jen Myers
Thrice in One Sitting: Fiction by Justin Alcala
In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning: Fiction by Gene Lass
AI Self-Mortification: Flash Fiction by Christopher Henckel
Correct Mistake: Flash Fiction by Eric Burbridge
A Moment of Inertia: Flash Fiction by Sean MacKendrick
Get Your Kicks on Route 666: Flash Fiction by M. L. Fortier
Let's Do Lunch: Flash Fiction by Hillary Lyon
"Three Wishes": Flash Fiction by Ronin Fox
Woodsman's Revenge: Flash Fiction by Jada Maze
To a Crow: Poem by Michael Keshigian
Estranged: Poem by Michael Keshigian
At the Terminal: Poem by Michael Keshigian
Angler's Nightmare: Poem by Michael Keshigian
Last Thirteen Steps: Poem by Kenneth Vincent Walker
Murderous Words: Poem by Kenneth Vincent Walker
My Childhood Snapshot: Poem by Kenneth Vincent Walker
With Vampires About: Poem by Kenneth Vincent Walker
The Zombies are Loose: Poem by C. Renee Kiser
Lil' Toe Dipper: Poem by C. Renee Kiser
Scattered Pieces: Poem by Andrew Graber

Michael Keshigian: Estranged



Michael Keshigian



Midnight and he walked

the narrow trail away from the lake,

becoming aware of nights blackness,

isolation and mystery

surrounded him upon the winding path

as the breeze followed, its breath chilling,

sending a shudder to his core.

He gazed up, implored the stars for comfort,

but was astonished at their minuteness

within the immensity of ceiling.

Life is more meaningful when he ponders

beneath the leaves of the great oak in his yard,

his children enhancing gaiety instead of the smallness

that now invades his being,

him, an infinitesimal, singular particle

meandering in the dark,

lost in the complexity of an explanation.

There have been times, under the same set of stars,

when his eyes widened

and the folds of his brain absorbed

those blinking messages from the universe

that transformed him into the nature

of all things, belonging

to an existence much larger than himself,

a child of the cosmos, his mind

a tiny compression of space dust

that saw beyond the veil of all things

without a need for explanation.

But indeed, on this night,

the invisible hand has dropped the curtain.

He is afraid to float, perhaps drown

in this sea of black without notice.

He searches for the moon or a guiding light

for passage, perhaps the sun will arrive early

to show him the way.

Michael Keshigian is the author of 14 poetry collections. His most recent poems have appeared in The Comstock Review, Blue Pepper, California Quarterly, Misfit Magazine, and Tipton Poetry Journal. He has been published in numerous national and international journals and has appeared as feature writer in twenty publications with 7 Pushcart Prize and 3 Best Of The Net nominations.