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Last Night

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

Enough to Clear The Clouds Away 4/13/2019


Checking Out

Home, Ghuey, Sweet Home

Someone Send Out A Search Party

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Dream Goblins Of The Night

Wake And Remember

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Weak In The Knees

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What Does Become Of Us

oh, try to pin Time down
and It will run from you
screaming giddily like a lunatic

good luck with It

you can't fill up a life with experiences
to slow Its plunging progress

you can't sew up the unraveling seams
of your past
they'll  continue to straggle behind you,
puzzle you

I can't freeze It

keep those dear closer with their hearts alive, beating
prevent the frantic alterations Time engineers
hold fast the sweeter moments of sunlight, youth,
even the queerer tricks of memories

I see It lumbering backward/forward
wearing Its Jester's garb

could it be am I the real fool as I age
becoming rueful, sentimental, filled with regrets

Time is never through with me
and yet, always taunting:
"Try, catch Me! " as It cackles with glee

while my heart-shaped net captures only air
a silent hollow place where
Time dissolves into Its echoes and shadows

Time, Time, Time
what does become of us

bewildered I seek inward, upward
and will not find

I don't know what It is
that I am supposed to know
and understand

tell me there is more
to It
than nothing.

Melissa A Howells retains all
Legal Copyright for this work, this site title by this author/writer.
Meloo/Melissa A. Howells Straight from her Tilt-a-World

8:46am/ October 27, 2016 time/date stamped for Legal Copyright

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