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Some Will

Home, Ghuey, Sweet Home

Please Don't Bring Me Flowers

No Woman's Friend

Sometimes I Hear Him



What If

Sometimes Love Comes With Electricity

A Little Bit of Harlem in Your Life

I Long For Stars

Every Time I Listen To the Wind.

Some People

She Is My Friend

Beware The Sign of Sagittarius

Need You (note of encouragement to self)

The Un-Promised Land

I Travel Every Time I Think Of You

Poem Untitled, But, If Not For You

If I Were Your Island....

(You're) Still Here

I Know Most Who I Am When You Are In The Room

From The Desert

As Sick As My Secrets

Not For The Bloom of Tears Cultivated These Last 100 Years

Then The Little Silver Fish Came

I Keep My Ray Bans Handy

Upwards Into The Swirling Sea Of White.

He's There

Oh, Now, The Pink Moon

And Even Stars Die

You Are Not My Audience, I Just Borrowed You For Awhile

why not ask the cat?

Odd Thoughts and Juxtapositions

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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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