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Uncovered

Knock, Then Come Through

Elise, Elise

The Blue Buffalo

Little Man Orange--My Mister Peanut Butter Trout



I Write This To Remember

Wisdom of the Infinite

THE STITCH IN THE TELEPHONE WIRES

The Differences

I Turn Forward

The Storm

Prairie Town Progress

Beyond Door Number Three

The Make-Up of Molecules

I Will Return

A Smattering Of Mattering (How Do You Matter)

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

from the tomb of three days sleeping

Lemonade Days and Rhubarb Pies

Life Among Clouds

The Cruel In The World (Blue Bag Metaphor)

HOW

EVENTUALLY...

THERE WILL BE MORE ...

morning thoughts (begin again)

Human History is Pockmarked With Tragedy

A Man Of The Clouds

Somtimes in Surrender

Encounter Before Dawn

Great Spirit

Shedding Your Skin

Liminality

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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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