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Home, Ghuey, Sweet Home

Some Children Have Nightmares (tentative title)

Night Train

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)

The Little Bird Said

cat speech

Funny, Not Funny

All You Have To Do Is Breathe....

Satire and Sarcasm...Before The Parade Passes You By

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A Dog Should Have His Tail...

Enough to Clear The Clouds Away 4/13/2019

Checking Out

Devious

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

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Someone Send Out A Search Party

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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

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The Parts of Me Kept Secret


Some Indian women have
pale eyebrows
even invisible ones
preferring to show their
strength in their jaws
and their inner reserve.

I hid my Indian-ness
before I even knew who I was.
I exchanged Marilyn Monroe bobs
for my back long braids.


The facts were simply
not brought up.

Only half doesn't
account for much.
Not worth mentioning.
Fact was I was cheated.

A married into the family
relative was the one
to tell me all about myself.
Her name was Rose.
She didn't do it quite directly.
Everything in my family was
indirect.

She'd researched it.
One side of the family tree.
A paternal Great-Grandmother was a
Full-blood.

My other Grandmother was not
the favorite daughter of her Mother.
She always said to her.
Little brown girl, you mind me now and stay
out of the sun.
Grandma never obeyed.
Great Grandmother had a tongue so sharp
it was rumored she could cut a chord of wood.
Eileen her youngest always angered her.
She didn't want her neighbors to know
her secret. Grandmother was a full blooded fine
French lady alright. Nothing more.

Later I was to find out more
about my Mother's side of the family
how Grandpa's distant relation Caroline
had Cree blood from Canada.

I can only scratch my head.
I want nothing from this.
All I want to know is why?

why the years of silence?







Copyright June 13 2012
All Rights Reserved By Author
All Poetry/Prose are the Legal Property of this Writer
Melissa A Howells   Meloo from her Tilt-a-World






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