meloostraightfromhertilt-a-world

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THE MILES THAT ARE LEFT TO GO...

Home, Ghuey, Sweet Home

Great Big Waterproof World

After Wide Sargasso Sea

If Prejudice Were Dumb And Could Not Speak



All Beings Considered

Not For The Bloom of Tears Cultivated These Last 100 Years

A Little Bit of Harlem in Your Life

The Dreaming Life ( A Series Of Dream Vignettes)

Burying the Dark

So Glad I Met You

Being Ourselves...

Knock, Then Come Through

I Need To Fly

To Them, I am Dead, I am Dead

I Turn Forward

Uncovered

Beyond Door Number Three

Little Man Orange--My Mister Peanut Butter Trout

Someone Send Out A Search Party

The Blue Buffalo

THE STITCH IN THE TELEPHONE WIRES

The Springtime Shadows Play Games Upon The Wall

The Differences

Wisdom of the Infinite

Not Someone's Grand Illusion

The Storm

Patch-Worked Trilogy

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

Prairie Town Progress

Great Spirit

Elise, Elise

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ONCE
I was young and smaller
wading in my thoughts
down by the river
the water waited then
shimmering in the light

I
a young woman with corn silk hair
and eyes so blue
the sky envied her
and bluebirds stared

back then
water was my refuge
flowing currents were my release
down by the river,
the clouds forgive

by the river its
a time to forget how
I wanted to leave
the earth quietly--
it was not so long ago

here,
I found my heart even
and much quieter

then,
my high pale cheeks altered
my fierce face framed in fright

the two-tone wing tip shoes turn in mid-air,
pink laces flying backwards
and somehow caught,
suspended high in the wind
while my right arm cast itself backwards
to fend and defend....

the woods across the road
beckoned
like the deer I was
I ran
my thinness couldn't save me
but anger, perhaps,
could
so I flew
and struck backwards

years later in the dark
the white panel van still glistens
its heat rising in the glaring sun

his dull dirty uniform reeks
and the dark blur of horn-rimmed glasses
hovering above my freckled nose while
his fixed blank black eyes bored in

how do I catch myself...
but I must try and
dare...
with my own frail flailing arms fluttering
backwards...
yet, still, somehow
forgetting now
how hard it's been to learn to breathe.


LEGAL COPYRIGHT FOR THIS POEM 3:40AM PST TIME/DATE STAMPED
AND ALSO FOR THIS WRITER MELISSA A. HOWELLS
AND ALSO FOR THIS LEGALLY COPYRIGHTED AND REGISTERED SITE TITLE
MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD





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