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Not Someone's Grand Illusion

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)





At Night I Dream of Vampires Who Have No Bad Intentions

morning thoughts (begin again)

Human History is Pockmarked With Tragedy

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Like Mad Romans

we're dancing like Mad Romans
mad mad Romans
to stave off the cold
sliding underneath the front door

we stomp our feet
to stir our blood
the vicious East Wind howls
hisses insisting on
being let in

near the door jam
the cat sniffs out the chill
jumps midair as fitful spits of air force
their way in through the cracks

don't oh don't you despise that East Wind
oh banshee mean and vile in January

persistent in its violence and wailing
persistent in its wringing creak dry-cackling
electrifying randomly the atmosphere
sparking the carpet as we gingerly high-step

we're dancing like Mad Romans
mad mad Romans
to stave off the cold

we cannot warm ourselves by our fire
for the East Wind blows them out
we must warm ourselves by our electric
stoves instead

we take chances walking out our
front door
the East Wind gleefully bullies us
knocking over unwary pedestrians
with sudden updrafts and gusts
some land flat on the backs
others topple down on their heads

in the morning the wind changes direction
bringing a gentle soft snowfall
we wonder at the new quietness
yet the fury continues to rail within our eardrums
and the memory of the East Wind
lives on within the hush

Copyright January 2012 All Rights Are Reserved By This Author/Writer
Reworked July 24th 2015....This is about the horrible East Wind that comes
to plague all of Oregon in the Wintertime.
Meloo Melissa A Howells straight from her Tilt-a-World
All poetry/prose/ideas/rants are the expressed legal  property of this Writer/


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