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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

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

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The  Make-Up of Molecules


I am made of molecules
and the desk is made of molecules
and the grass is made of molecules
is there any difference
between us?

molecules

does a tree have sentience
does a table know it was once alive...
that it had friends in the forest?

the oily ink within
this pen
allows me to write words and sentences
does ink think
know it once was a dinosaur
the life force flowing through a T-Rex

molecules

do the rice, wheat and oats
that are my Chex
remember being planted
what its like to feel wind
parting its bearded strands
before
all of it was cut
reaped
harvested
by man...

molecules

make a man
a woman
up the land
and a bed
where I lay my head
and think again

of molecules



LEGAL COPYRIGHT FOR THIS POEM 5/23/2020
9:07 PM PST TIME DATE STAMPED
AND ALSO FOR THIS POET MELISSA A. HOWELLS
AND ALSO FOR THIS LEGALLY REGISTERED AND COPYRIGHTED
SITE TITLE MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD





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