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I dreamt I went to my own funeral
but no one else was there Gored by a Blue Buffalo I'd died looking up into a prairie sky feeling very little pain but wondering how did I get here... songs were playing older favorites which I no longer recognized those whose words and melodies had, at one time. had great poetry and depth of feeling for me the wind rose and blew steadily through the tall tall grass it seemed silent but not silence, itself blue and yellow butterflies floated over and above me making a gradual path to the gathering clouds the air danced with the perfume of wild prairie roses while the tall grasses rustled murmuring: "hush..." and then a large blue-bearded face drew near me and looked down into my half-masted eyes pulling myself up by His Long Blue Beard, I began walking with The Buffalo, no longer limping (my cane cast aside...) I turned to Him and asked Him (in my mind) "Sacred Blue Buffalo.. Why Are You Blue?" He answered my question His Heart Speaking To Mine: "What Color Are Your Eyes?" "Blue blue my eyes are blue... " I sang to him in my sturdy alto voice as He nodded I grabbed His Long Blue Beard and then We began steadily walking hand in beard.... LEGAL COPYRIGHT FOR THIS POEM 9:15AM PST TIME AND DATE STAMPED AND ALSO FOR THIS AUTHOR MELISSA A. HOWELLS AND ALSO FOR THIS LEGALLY REGISTERED AND COPYRIGHTED POETRY SITE TITLE MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD Vote for this poem |
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