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Home, Ghuey, Sweet Home

All Beings Considered

I Long For Stars

The Best Revenge (For All Your Critic's Critiques)

Your Next New Dying Black Swan



The Dreaming Life ( A Series Of Dream Vignettes)

Nothing's Sadder Than A Rose

Not For The Bloom of Tears Cultivated These Last 100 Years

All Too Clearly Now

If This Is Any Art For Which You Care

Informed Through Pain

Sometimes In Losing I Have Gained A Lot

A Man Of The Clouds

The Birds Are Such Un-numbering Creatures of Distant Hitchcockian Past

Accountants

Shrine

Didn't You Learn That First Lesson In Kindergarten?

They Grew (A Poem From The Imaginarium)

Cuba Libre

Dragons

Max on the max

The Little Bird Said

The Factory of Resentments

When My Blues Are Gone

Expect Yourself

TONIGHT

I WILL RETURN

Silver-Tongued Devil

Within The Green Wind Becomes The Fall

Think On This--IF YOU WOULD

Open Lines

You Got Your Lilly Back

More Poetry >>

A Circle

Its very odd,
Watching you
From the other side of the street.
I'm waiting,
Knowing you will be going your way,
As I will go my own.
I keep looking there,
At you, this person I know.
I think about Math, the continuing
Lines of Geometry and the rhythms in Algebra-
So much that I have forgotten
So long ago.
I think:
Your line
Continues on. It forms
A circle like mine.
Where did we meet?
Somewhere, here, in the middle.


Copyright Written 2007 All Rights Reserved By the Author
Melissa A Howells   Meloo of Tilt-a-World





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A Circle


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