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Wisdom of the Infinite

If Prejudice Were Dumb And Could Not Speak

The Differences

The Springtime Shadows Play Games Upon The Wall

A Little Bit of Harlem in Your Life



The Voice Lost In the Wires

Home, Ghuey, Sweet Home

All Beings Considered

After Wide Sargasso Sea

Great Big Waterproof World

The Storm

I Turn Forward

Patch-Worked Trilogy

And Then It Wasn't Hard To Be Eight Years Old

Prairie Town Progress

Beyond Door Number Three

Great Spirit

Elise, Elise

The Make-Up of Molecules

Someone Send Out A Search Party

Make (of) Me A Snow Angel

Threading Myself Through The River Called Night

Not For The Bloom of Tears Cultivated These Last 100 Years

The Dreaming Life ( A Series Of Dream Vignettes)

Dragons

HOW

EVENTUALLY...

THERE WILL BE MORE ...

At Night I Dream of Vampires Who Have No Bad Intentions

morning thoughts (begin again)

Human History is Pockmarked With Tragedy

Unseen, The Lilacs And The Daffodils

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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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