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the slap of clarity

You are growing out of your clothes,
You are slipping out of your life,
What fits?
It all tastes like
chafe in the wind.
You are an old cow
who can no longer chew.
Out to pasture.
No milk to make.
Lived out your usefulness.
If you ever had some.
I see the seedlings
dancing down the street.
I see the west wind rising.
I wonder at the Weather and what
storm She'll make.
I wonder if I still know how
to seek shelter?
Clouds nearly always hiding
what it is
I need to see.

Copyright April 27, 2013
scrawled on a scrap of paper at 2pm, waiting for the bus
All Rights Are Reserved By This Author
Melissa A Howells// Meloo Straight from her  Tilt-a-World

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