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the patterns that once made up the world are on pause waiting for the restart button how many of us are glued to our windows watching for the world to return? ********* my little green parrot perches near the window he's a wise bird a keen inquiring mind he often chatters to himself in a language I randomly understand his thoughts must take him beyond the rain-streaked window flying with the pigeons and then onto a distant rain forest where his family lived I know I'm only borrowing him that he's an alien from an equatorial land a palace of green where he ate wild fruits and scavenged the river banks for the healing clay when the fruits are too green he might be a proud bird un-envious of the pigeons and other birds but he might envy their winged precision as they fly in unison corkscrews synchronized aerobatics and still somehow they always manage to return to the same place (does his mind wander to other places where he can't return?) does he wonder about the goings on of the little people he watches engaged in their frantic daily routines does he watch them as they mechanically return, each, to their chosen holes/doors little ant-people following familiar scent paths to the other ant-people waiting at home does all his waiting and watching satisfy him does he entertain and distract himself just like people do... and if this watching-waiting doesn't satisfy does he feel ennui like I do? written directly to the page, will return for edits/clarity later LEGAL COPYRIGHT FOR THIS POEM 2/24/21 10:27 AM PACIFIC STANDARD TIME TIME AND DATE STAMPED...AND ALSO FOR THIS POET MELISSA A. HOWELLS AND ALSO FOR THIS LEGALLY COPYRIGHTED SITE TITLE: MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD written as part of a photography collaboration during the second year of the pandemic/lockdown with my friend Hajnal Szolgen...she is truly talented and beautiful inside and out. Bless her. HELLO AND GOOD MORNING__YOU MAY LEAVE COMMENTS/SUGGESTIONS IN THE REVIEW AREA Vote for this poem |
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