melissaahowells
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few would ever own
few rarely ever see the years the drubbing hours of the hot seasons that have lived through me every ten years they come encouraged to arrive right when the temperatures rises the moon dives down to the earth tides turn winds are relentless even when you don't hear them speak and complain and my heart begins to believe it won't ever possibly mend again then I feel the rain on my face a whole deluge of it but none of it is falling every ten years predictable with teeth and claws the heat drags itself in reminding me how life can mean continual compliance how I'm destined to repeat like-trials how I must do much more than pass/fail then win failing cannot be an option or the heat will wing victory over me as surely as the grass turns brown and forests burn as surely as a crow opens its mouth to gulp in air to cool itself as surely as the madmen fill cloudless skies with bizarre embroidery webs of vapor oozing a child's watercolor tilted down upon us how a little Lot of pain must disperse as if we've purchased it but it has all the rights and if we struggle and wade through flailing hoping we will learn to swim and waiting for the cool of autumn the change I've had at least six hot seasons my unlucky number but I would have preferred six summers in the night mirrored I see them peering in the twitching glances of my eyes I know their whisperings in my restless sleep they tell me I am theirs to keep those monsters those devils the hot seasons. LEGAL COPYRIGHT 6;41 AM PST AUGUST 15 2018 TIME DATE STAMPED FOR THIS POEM/AND ALSO FOR THIS WRITER MELISSA A HOWELLS AND ALSO FOR THIS LEGALLY COPYRIGHTED SITE TITLE- MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD. 1966/1976/1986/1996/2006/2016 Vote for this poem |
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