melissaahowells


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o The Petty Player Who Rarely Sleeps

o I'd Like A Taste (The Wolf Said)

o The Crow Is A Black Bird

o When I Start to Bloom

o I'd Like To Be Your Shirt (when you wake up in the morning)



o All Beings Considered

o Words Between Edward And Jane

o Nothing's Sadder Than A Rose

o The Great Tsunami Of Our Growing Grief written 3/2.2021--retitled 3/14/2021

o After Wide Sargasso Sea ( For Those of You Readers Who Have Empathy For the First Mrs. Rochester.)

o WAITING ON THE WORLD (March/February 2021 poetry)

o Wild and Unraveling

o What Must Be

o These Hands Exist July 4 2023 rei-edited 7/12/2023

o I Am The Color Of Black

o The Tide of Your Lies (2019-2023)

o How I Wanted Your Pearls 6/24/2023 WRITTEN DIRECTLY TO THE PAGE

o Love Wants What Love Wants re-edited 5/31/023

o Winter's Been Too Long.... 4/18/2023 (LONGING)

o The Dreaming Life ( A Series Of Dream Vignettes)

o Like A Small Street Dog Lured In By The Promise Of Meat

o This Is What Mermaids Dream Of

o At Night, As I Dream of Vampires Who Have No Bad Intentions

o And You Will Be Called Ashes As You Leave ( from a dream)

o Certainly No Bread 3/16/2022

o Someone Send Out A Search Party

o THE FAN , AT NIGHT, GIVES GOOD ADVICE completely re-edited, an entirely different poem

o What Is The Price For Your Touch? re-editied 5/31/2023

o Where Is My Bed With The Pleasing Tree -Lined View(NOW REEDITED)

o Oh What Fine Physics (Before Me ,Lies) re-edtited @4/17/2023

o If Prejudice Were Dumb And Could Not Speak

o THE COMPANY THAT WE KEEP WITH THE ONE WITHIN



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On  Moving  2000 Miles Too Far From Home

Time marches on with lead feet
And we are soldiers scampering about
In the  dark.
There's no going back to the dawn.
The air is ruptured by a train
Sounding a horn in the distance
Separating the dense fog.
In my head, the music plays.
I know this dance.
My feet shuffle knowing how to move.
Stepping slowly, circling
Around a fire whose embers are dying out.
Exactly, how is war waged here?
I strike bravely at the chords of existence
With the wearying flaw of persistence.
In the night
Thoughts/questions
Come like bullets seeking my life.
I remember
This is the land of earthquakes.
I make a mental note.
Seek solid ground, or move on.
But life has been miles in the waiting.
Shadows stretching forward seem brief.
And the ones before,
Yes, the ones before,
Make me tired
And seem to stretch on and on.


Meloo/Melissa A. Howells Copyright December 2009





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