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Coming Off Small

Counting The Long Days, Tilling The Greens

All Tarted Up

Don't Tread On Me.

why We celebrate the losers



Home, Ghuey, Sweet Home

what makes a monster (sympathy for the monster)

I Long For Stars

If This Is Any Art For Which You Care

All Beings Considered

Little Water Bug ( learning the lesson of true pain)

Hope You Enjoyed The Eclipse While It Lasted

Written For My Father Who Isn't Here To Know

And Even Stars Die

Crowded Out

I Feel Fine(r)

Make (of) Me A Snow Angel

Used to Think I Could Fix Them.

Sometimes Love Comes With Electricity

Into The Swirling Sea Of White.

Max on the max

So You Do (May 10, 2010 written for June 1987)

Boy Restored

The Light Goes On In The Attic (WeAll Have Addictons)

Life's A Candle

Malla Batsick

(A Prayer of Intercession--Brief Joy)

Love A Cat

Cuba Libre

Fragile Shell Of Morning

Disappear

A Little Bit of Harlem in Your Life

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Here They Are Triumphant, The Crows


its a magnificent picture of them
in one panoramic snapshot
from the top of a downtown building

there must be an entire generation here
crows by the hundreds
maybe even the thousands
gathered together here on one block
the flock

crowded into the largest of trees
with the longest of branches
roosting

survivors of
a series of singular winter storms
which had tried to wipe out
the denizens of Portland
but not them

here they are triumphant
perched among the hundred year elms
I am awe struck
my breath sucked away
as if I were with them perched in the cold

side-by-side
the sea of their uncountable numbers
murder upon murder
of crows

I bow to them
saluting them with my brilliant smile


LEGAL COPYRIGHT FEBRUARY 24 2017 FOR THIS POEM/WORK
AND ALSO BY THIS AUTHOR WRITER
MELISSA A. HOWELLS AND ALSO FOR THIS
LEGALLY COPYRIGHTED SITE TITLE
MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD

THIS IMPRESSION FROM A PICTURE POSTED
ON THE SITE HIDDEN PORTLAND FOR THE CURIOUS
WHICH YOU CAN FIND ON FACEBOOK


This was certainly the winter of our discontent.
Snowfall upon snowfall for a town that doesn't see
snow. And no plows to speak of to plow it. This was
almost like that Stephen King novel with Jack Nicholson
in the lead role in the lead role. And all through it
a killer flu epidemic raging. 9 homeless people including
a newborn baby dying on the frozen streets. This was surely
the ugly winter of many's discontent. Made us all hanker
after an eternal Spring, which by the way did not come
until the very last day of March which was the rainiest
March ever. I think P-landers where beginning to feel
they were living in Job-like counter-reality. If it wasn't
snow shutting down the city, it was floods carrying pieces
of it away...landslides and the like. Okay. Fingers crossed
that things improve. That is why I was so moved at the
resiliency and inventiveness of these fantastic birds, the
crows. They are true survivors. If you could have seen this
photograph, it would've taken your breath away. Definitely
worthy of the National Geographic magazine, maybe even a
Pulitzer Prize for photography. I would like a copy.





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