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Hope Is Sometimes The Best Of All You've Got (definition poem)

Enough to Clear The Clouds Away 4/13/2019

Devious

Checking Out

Home, Ghuey, Sweet Home



Someone Send Out A Search Party

Crows...writing exercise in honor of April /National Poetry month

Words

Only The Choice To Be

When People Go

The Day You Left (Words From A Half-Remembered Dream)

Wake Wake Wake

It Is In The Rain

Dream Goblins Of The Night

Wake And Remember

Unwelcomed Like So Much Unfinished Business

In March (Finally, Spring 2016)

All For Algernon

Weak In The Knees

The Finisher's Song

Nothing's Sadder Than A Rose

All Beings Considered

This Is It

Max on the max

I Long For Stars

Falling Leaf, Falling Man/Woman, Rising Star

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

Its About Waking In The Middle Of The Night And Having To Write It All Down

Not For The Bloom of Tears Cultivated These Last 100 Years

If This Is Any Art For Which You Care

If I Could Be The Sky...

It Feels Better To Be Unfinished (Wish-Unspoken, But With My Eyes)

More Poetry >>

The Husk Before October

I see the husk before me,
waiting for
the healing storms of
October.
Parched grass tramped,
dark crackling gold in the wind,
praying for the rain.
All is bone dead in September.
No prophesy to tell us when the rains will come.
The thirst in the ground grows and grows.
Extremity in nature,
the earth so wanting,
we, too, so wanting,
our tempers are short, our manners are forgotten.
We, who've stopped wondering how to regret
our
quick
flashes
of anger,
just as Gaea has forgotten her
dulled
impatience
for rain.
15 days and counting,
15 nights a trail of eighty plus degrees and
sweat stained beds.
We scoop our breath out like poached yolks,
We test the theory of
eggs sering on sidewalks.
We scan the horizon
for a change that we long to
taste
on our tongues,
feel
on our skin.
This is the husk before
drenching storms of October.
Before the time we finally
will
sigh
doused by the healing
coolness
of rain.



February 13 2012...All Rights Are Reserved By The Author
Melissa A Howells    Meloo of Tilt-a-World

this is about a time in childhood when there was a drought in the Midwest.
seems like old times again. global warming is the rule, in my opinion,
 no longer just  the exception.






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The Husk Before October


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