meloostraightfromhertilt-a-world

      Poet's Home             All Poetry       Sign Up!  Login
© 2000-2020 Individual Authors of the Poetry. All rights reserved by authors.   352379 Poems Read.

Search for Poetry

   


Read Poetry
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

More Poetry >>

 
Features

  Sign Guestbook

Read Guestbook

 
   

The Sky Reflects


the sky reflects
yes

the sky reflects
what I reflect
how I reflect
it thinks as
I would think

grey on grey on grey
with little spots of blue
in between

and here now:

the crow bobs in
hops flops nearly falling down
then startled
takes wing
I am in HIS wings
flying

I see in him
my blacker self
feathers askew
and a halting gait
lop-sided

we mind how others mind us
or do we
mind
how we are deemed
to be

his voice
is my voice
betrays a certain vibration
annoyance or
a choice

I hear his loneliness
a cry
that is a cry
of me


is his call
defeated
beaten down

scorn-filled
a bitterness or pall
is it pain or bad chance
or the un-simplification of
some great difficulty

yet
how I am rooting for him

see how his
courage propels him upwards
as he one-foot hops
into the sky

it takes a lot
to stay
alive
and
to fly above
the fray of
continually scattering
feathers

do both crow and I
being born to the flock
find the need of
lone flight (a lot)

is this the reason
I crave the wide plains
of sky?



Copyright May 23, 2014/All Rights Reserved By This Author
Meloo/Melissa A Howells/Tilt-a-World

Copyright June 11/2015 re-edited All Rights Are Reserved By This Author
Meloo/Melissa A Howells straight from her Tilt-a-World/Copyright Site Title
All ideas/rants/poetry/prose is the expressed legal property of this writer.

Thank you kindly for reading.  I write this poem in gratitude for a return to
health. The crow gave me hope.





Vote for this poem

Please Comment On This Poem

Comments

 Email Address

 

Vote for this poem