melissaahowells

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Out On The Street

THE MILES THAT ARE LEFT TO GO...

I Need To Fly

Burying the Dark

Judging The Rain



The Haircut Thing

The Bare Bones

I Came From Water

Every One of Us Has a Door....

THEY NAMED ME ENOUGH

THE CRYPT OF THE KEPT AND THE KEEPER

UNDECIDED

Patch-Worked Trilogy

To Them, I am Dead, I am Dead

Uncovered

It Came To Me While Doing Laundry On A Sunday Looking For Some Blank Space To Write In Before It Was All Gone...

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

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THE CRYPT OF THE KEPT AND THE KEEPER


the skies
for all their November blue-brilliance
are poised for
rain

they cry for all of yesterday's
remembrances

and I am my brother's keeper
and I am my Mother's pretended friend
and my Father's lost soul

who are you
in all of this
blue-brilliance
this sky show
of last leaves
and ruby glow
so scarlet
they remind me of blood
and the ties which no longer tie

November is the month
where memory goes to die
and wither
and fall to the ground
waiting for winter winds to sweep
them all around

we who have slumbered through
this year that never was
a parade of ghosts
and lack of showing
where is everyone and everything going

to the dusk
and to the dust
and to the shroud
what are these shadow words
we scream aloud
full of voice
but meaning
almost nothing.


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and also for this writer/author Melissa A. Howells
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MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD





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