You find your thumbs
and move them.
Look out the sliding window
as others drift out, drift in.
Find beauty
in everyday life.
The sky, a blue canvas.
Pointillism.
The clouds roaming
the west hills.
There is a great divide
between somewhere and the rainbow.
You are
a girl in mismatched clothes.
You close sleep-filled eyes.
Lips making an off-center oh.
Steam rises
from a paper cup
moistening your upper lip.
It begins to rain.
Recycled weather
and bad coffee.
Good Morning:
Welcome to the valley without hope,
the river that unravels,
a skein of broken promises.
And the questions that never end with sentences.
See the lady with the purple flower
blooming across her face,
sitting across from you.
She tries to become small.
This is a wounded world.
You know this.
But you smile always
in public places.
Its best not to let
too much show.
Copyright July 17th, 2010 All Rights Reserved
Meloo/Tilt-a-World by Melissa A. Howells