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Cuba Libre

This Is It

The Inner String

Max on the max

For Another Mean New Sun.

Some Children Have Nightmares (tentative title)

Night Train


wandering the rolling hills ...(written for his model)

All The Changing....


Lonesome Love

two out of three people

A Start Again...(I Green-Dreamed Again Last Night)

The Little Bird Said

cat speech

Funny, Not Funny

All You Have To Do Is Breathe....


A Dog Should Have His Tail...

Enough to Clear The Clouds Away 4/13/2019

Checking Out


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

Last Night

Crows...writing exercise in honor of April /National Poetry month


Only The Choice To Be

When People Go

The Day You Left (Words From A Half-Remembered Dream)

Wake Wake Wake

It Is In The Rain

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How I Think That About Every One...

I saw the cat seated in front of the puddle
casually drinking
wearing his tuxedo
of black and white
as if he was always well-dressed for any occasion
like any self respecting cat would be
he sat self-assured
by the roadside
he wore no collar
and when I turned to look back at him
I was sure he was lost
but didn't want to appear that way to me
I thought to myself
I wish I could keep him
but I wrote about him instead
I think that about every one
keeping them surrounding me
in white picket sentences
little memories immortalized
in words
so that they're not

a singular thought condensation on a November 1st afternoon...
legal copyright for this work and also for this
writer/poet Melissa A. Howells
and also for this legally copyrighted site title:
Meloo Straight From Her Tilt-a-World

everything is derivative, like impressions
4:54PM PST Thursday November 1st 2018 time/date stamped

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