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The Petty Player Who Rarely Sleeps

I'd Like A Taste (The Wolf Said)

The Crow Is A Black Bird

When I Start to Bloom

I'd Like To Be Your Shirt (when you wake up in the morning)



All Beings Considered

Words Between Edward And Jane

Nothing's Sadder Than A Rose

The Great Tsunami Of Our Growing Grief written 3/2.2021--retitled 3/14/2021

After Wide Sargasso Sea ( For Those of You Readers Who Have Empathy For the First Mrs. Rochester.)

WAITING ON THE WORLD (March/February 2021 poetry)

Wild and Unraveling

What Must Be

These Hands Exist July 4 2023 rei-edited 7/12/2023

I Am The Color Of Black

The Tide of Your Lies (2019-2023)

How I Wanted Your Pearls 6/24/2023 WRITTEN DIRECTLY TO THE PAGE

Love Wants What Love Wants re-edited 5/31/023

Winter's Been Too Long.... 4/18/2023 (LONGING)

The Dreaming Life ( A Series Of Dream Vignettes)

Like A Small Street Dog Lured In By The Promise Of Meat

This Is What Mermaids Dream Of

At Night, As I Dream of Vampires Who Have No Bad Intentions

And You Will Be Called Ashes As You Leave ( from a dream)

Certainly No Bread 3/16/2022

Someone Send Out A Search Party

THE FAN , AT NIGHT, GIVES GOOD ADVICE completely re-edited, an entirely different poem

What Is The Price For Your Touch? re-editied 5/31/2023

Where Is My Bed With The Pleasing Tree -Lined View(NOW REEDITED)

Oh What Fine Physics (Before Me ,Lies) re-edtited @4/17/2023

If Prejudice Were Dumb And Could Not Speak

THE COMPANY THAT WE KEEP WITH THE ONE WITHIN

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Here They Are Triumphant, The Crows


its a magnificent picture of them
in one panoramic snapshot
from the top of a downtown building

there must be an entire generation here
crows by the hundreds
maybe even the thousands
gathered together here on one block
the flock

crowded into the largest of trees
with the longest of branches
roosting

survivors of
a series of singular winter storms
which had tried to wipe out
the denizens of Portland
but not them

here they are triumphant
perched among the hundred year elms
I am awe struck
my breath sucked away
as if I were with them perched in the cold

side-by-side
the sea of their uncountable numbers
murder upon murder
of crows

I bow to them
saluting them with my brilliant smile


LEGAL COPYRIGHT FEBRUARY 24 2017 FOR THIS POEM/WORK
AND ALSO BY THIS AUTHOR WRITER
MELISSA A. HOWELLS AND ALSO FOR THIS
LEGALLY COPYRIGHTED SITE TITLE
MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD

THIS IMPRESSION FROM A PICTURE POSTED
ON THE SITE HIDDEN PORTLAND FOR THE CURIOUS
WHICH YOU CAN FIND ON FACEBOOK


This was certainly the winter of our discontent.
Snowfall upon snowfall for a town that doesn't see
snow. And no plows to speak of to plow it. This was
almost like that Stephen King novel with Jack Nicholson
in the lead role in the lead role. And all through it
a killer flu epidemic raging. 9 homeless people including
a newborn baby dying on the frozen streets. This was surely
the ugly winter of many's discontent. Made us all hanker
after an eternal Spring, which by the way did not come
until the very last day of March which was the rainiest
March ever. I think P-landers where beginning to feel
they were living in Job-like counter-reality. If it wasn't
snow shutting down the city, it was floods carrying pieces
of it away...landslides and the like. Okay. Fingers crossed
that things improve. That is why I was so moved at the
resiliency and inventiveness of these fantastic birds, the
crows. They are true survivors. If you could have seen this
photograph, it would've taken your breath away. Definitely
worthy of the National Geographic magazine, maybe even a
Pulitzer Prize for photography. I would like a copy.





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