melissaahowells

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THE CRYPT OF THE KEPT AND THE KEEPER

UNDECIDED

THE MILES THAT ARE LEFT TO GO...

To Them, I am Dead, I am Dead

I'm Out Of My Dreams 3/12/2021...the pain-body and dreams



I Need To Fly

Burying the Dark

Knock, Then Come Through

Being Ourselves...

Like The Wind In The Middle Of The Night

Uncovered

Unseen, The Lilacs And The Daffodils

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

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The Cruel In The World (Blue Bag Metaphor)


a blue plastic bag
went rolling along the tracks
pushed along by the wind

"keep rolling..."
it told itself
keep rolling-as if
it had a choice

this wasn't a playful ballet
the blue bag being insubstantial
with no tether to tie itself down
no help forthcoming

it had to try
to hold onto itself
believe that the winds would die down
or change directives

there's nothing quite like
change
and how one day
it simply
shows up.


LEGAL COPYRIGHT FOR THIS POEM 12:12PM PST 2/19/2020
TIME AND DATE STAMPED AND ALSO FOR THIS AUTHOR/WRITER
MELISSA A. HOWELLS AND ALSO FOR THIS LEGALLY REGISTED
AND COPYRIGHTED SITE TITLE: MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD







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