meloostraightfromhertilt-a-world

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Two Better Pasttimes. ( A Bit O' Rant)

Home, Ghuey, Sweet Home

This Is It

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

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

Nothing's Sadder Than A Rose

All In The Family (Family, What A Concept)

Unknowing

Not For The Bloom of Tears Cultivated These Last 100 Years

Max on the max

All My Children ( CATS ARE PEOPLE TOO)

How I Think That About Every One...

In Layers

Someone Send Out A Search Party

Silent Endings

All Beings Considered

Wake And Remember

Call This Our Autumn

Small Sentry

If I Could Be The Sky...

All Too Clearly Now

If This Is Any Art For Which You Care

Evidence

Afterwards...

It Comes At Night

The Hot Seasons

Perhaps I Too, Was Frozen

You Are (I'm Here With You)

Joyce Will Soon Be Seventy-Something

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Not For The Bloom of Tears Cultivated These Last 100 Years



On
a certain day
in May
I might remember you.
I'll be drenched
in the sentimentality of it.
A flower will sprout from each
blue grey tear
I leak.
Then promptly withering to
brown,
will die
at my small gnarled feet.
Unlike the century plant
which lives and thrives but blooms
but once a hundred years.
None of my blooms, so precious,
made of tears, in torrents.





Legal Copyright January 17 2013/ 10:11am PST
 All Legal Copyrights Reserved By This Author
Melissa A Howells //Meloo Straight from her Tilt-a-World

COPYRIGHT FOR THIS WORK, FOR THIS SITE TITLE BY THIS AUTHOR





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