melissaahowells

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The Blue Buffalo

Little Man Orange--My Mister Peanut Butter Trout

Not Someone's Grand Illusion

The Springtime Shadows Play Games Upon The Wall

THE STITCH IN THE TELEPHONE WIRES



Patch-Worked Trilogy

I Turn Forward

The Storm

Prairie Town Progress

Beyond Door Number Three

And Then It Wasn't Hard To Be Eight Years Old

Elise, Elise

A Bird, A Fly, A Cripple (Pity Poem?)

The Make-Up of Molecules

HOW

Haiku's In Triplicate

THERE WILL BE MORE ...

EVENTUALLY...

The Change In The Change(s)

At Night I Dream of Vampires Who Have No Bad Intentions

Human History is Pockmarked With Tragedy

EXPECT COMPLICATIONS

A New Clear

What Exactly Comes Next?

morning thoughts (begin again)

Encounter Before Dawn

Somtimes in Surrender

The Cruel In The World (Blue Bag Metaphor)

Shedding Your Skin

On the Wings Of A Bird

My Heart Knows Him Still ( For TLP)

NEEDING /KNEADING MORE (sometimes)

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


life is now a pattern
life is blind faith
life's been in between the sleep
the wake

I want to jump off the loop
would you jump off with me
could we find our own stride again
plenty room to breathe

a garden sanctuary where we could hide
an Eden with a key of our own
lock out the ugliness
we've found outside
as we step away from a world
we'd rather leave alone

once long ago
I'd vowed to leave the earth quietly
once long ago
I'd vowed to hide in plain sight
now I vow to live out loud
and more viably

let us find our wilderness
let us take a risk
and leave here tonight


flee the city
maybe become small-town
flee the cement jungles
flee the unhappy clowns

flee the stores and the bores
flee the clutter-some noise
flee the fast-shutting doors
flee the growing absence of true choice

maybe live in a tree
live on our own patch of earth
live by some water
live in the moment
and stop the long search

and breathe
and be free
and look
and see what's right in front of us

contented finally
where we land
where things work out
as if they were planned

a cabin
a garden
a start again
a green dream again
for you
for me

we are the butterflies
let us stretch our wings.


legal copyright for this poem 1:18am PST June 8 2018
and also for this author Melissa A. Howells
and also for this legally copyrighted site title
Meloo Straight From Her Tilt-a-World





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