meloostraightfromhertilt-a-world

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Little Man Orange--My Mister Peanut Butter Trout

A Little Bit of Harlem in Your Life

THE STITCH IN THE TELEPHONE WIRES

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The Differences



If Prejudice Were Dumb And Could Not Speak

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Not Someone's Grand Illusion

Home, Ghuey, Sweet Home

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I Long For Stars


I long for stars
hearing the whistle of far off trains
brisk night breezes
the opening of doors
to familiar faces
uncomplicated circumstances
and nights of endless uninterrupted sleep
and waking up feeling sated
with dreams
I can remember to live

I long for stars
and the thought of not worrying about what remains
how I could take that whistling train
to somewhere
and not be afraid
the comforting change of seasons
the anticipation of what more might happen
the adventure in near and distant places
the uncomplicated circumstances
of nights spent dancing and talking with my dearest friends
living like I'm dreaming
so much time still ahead
an equal number of years behind and in front of me
oh there's still more time to dream in
the present is a gift
open to me


I long for stars
how they deliver me directly to hope
they help me focus
and feel so not alone
keep it all shrunk down to my own
manageable humanity
but now I'm getting older
the stars I long for are dimmer
farther away and much harder to see
how they seem more paired to eternity
and to those faces who were once familiar
who've now become much dimmer
they're distant constellations
far away and gone from me

but
how I've longed for stars
how I hoped to reach them
how I wanted to be one of them

how I long for stars




legal copyright for this poem/work on June 3, 2017
directly written to the page and also by this writer/author/poet
Melissa A. Howells and also for this legally copyrighted site title:
Meloo Straight From Her Tilt-a-World





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