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I Write This To Remember

Errands (WHAT ARE YOUR UNOFFICIALLY APPOINTED ERRANDS?)

And I Smile ( Little Little Bird)

Where The Weird Actually Tried To Turn Pro

the earth is our mother



This Snake

All Of Who I Was

Where The Dead Don't Mind...

Peace Where There Is No Opportunity

Night Train

What Could a Death Meet-Up Have To Offer?

Someone Send Out A Search Party

I Wish God Had Better Magic

Canis Latrans

What's With The Lead Overshoes?

How Does It, How Do You Matter

THE POCKET DOOR

Like The Wind In The Middle Of The Night

The Hoping

This Is It

The Inner String

For Another Mean New Sun.

Some Children Have Nightmares (tentative title)

Nameless

wandering the rolling hills ...(written for his model)

All The Changing....

HOME

Lonesome Love

two out of three people

A Start Again...(I Green-Dreamed Again Last Night)

cat speech

Funny, Not Funny

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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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