meloostraightfromhertilt-a-world

      Poet's Home             All Poetry       Sign Up!  Login
© 2000-2017 Individual Authors of the Poetry. All rights reserved by authors.   247031 Poems Read.

Search for Poetry

   


Read Poetry
Like A Snow-globe

these times they have changed us

visions of sugarplums by the river bank

Mrs. Stine, Isn't It Time?

Come On Now



So Much Beauty

And Even Stars Die

Certain Succulent Pieces Of Time

Wiki-The-Tricky-Trap-Tapped-Us

I Speak for Those Whose Voice Would Be Taken Out Of Social Circulation

I Talk To A Machine In My Darkness

What Is This Death? ( As I Grow Older And Nearer To It)

Home, Ghuey, Sweet Home

un-Completion (I Prefer It)

Hope You Like It, Not

A Tesseract OrTwo

Woman Of A Certain Age

Deportation

Here They Are Triumphant, The Crows

Lost Before You Began

And You May Be The Reaper

Confetti Universe

Limitless

What If

I Wish You Well (a prayer)

Covering Up Vs Uncovering

What'll I Do, Without You

So You Do

For the Years of Dancing (Dance Hall Days Gone)

whern night becomes day

Not For The Bloom of Tears Cultivated These Last 100 Years

If This Is Any Art For Which You Care

More Poetry >>

 
Features

  Sign Guestbook

Read Guestbook

 
   

Of A Wounded Branch





there's a wounded branch
on a leafless tree
I can see it dangling
hanging down
outside my balcony
I don't know how that branch
hangs on
with all this rain
and the pulling wind's
moaning
song

how does it continue to hang there
by the thinnest of shreds
the branch itself
nearly blackened
nearly dead

(does any one really care)

near the break
is a faint small spot of green
and one must keenly look
before it is seen
I know
that wounded branch
its surely me

black crows scavenge near
my window every day
I feed them nuts
tiny bits of seed
which sometimes the crows fail to find
so then the bits burrow and decay

often I too have felt lost like that
too much that buried way

how do these crows continue, thrive
while so few I see merely try to survive
is there some lesson they could teach me
so I won't have to think on
those decaying seeds
growing into worry weeds

sometimes
bits of my life don't flourish or
fail to sprout and grow
I'd like to be able to focus
on the better things
and have more to show
from the parts of my life
that make up me

sometimes
I need help to persevere
to succeed and see
so that my blacker thoughts
remain at bay or
can begin to slow

if only
I could know
just long enough
so I can begin better to sow
some of those bluer skies
and grasp at the yet
un-realized
and not just the gruff
of harder times
not be
that wounded branch




blue menu:
Legal
Copyright November 20, 2016/ 7:11 am PST
for this poem/work, by this author/writer
Melissa Ann Howells/Meloo
straight from her legal copyright
site: Tilt-a-World

reedited December 2, 2016
5:09 am PST





Vote for this poem

Please Comment On This Poem

Comments

 Email Address

 

Vote for this poem