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IN SUMMERTIME
MY OUTER SHELL IS BERRY BROWN MY COFFEE COLOR PERKS IN THE STEAMY HEAT IN WINTER MY OUTER SHELL PALES AND I SLEEP WITH THE SNOWS WAITING MORTAR AND BRICK BUILDINGS ARE NOT TENTS AND TEEPEES I HIDE MY NATURE WITHIN MY SHELL AND SOMETIMES FROM MYSELF ITS UNWISE TO LISTEN TO FALSE ELDERS AND REHEARSE THE LIES IN MY HEAD BLEND IN KEEP A CIVIL TONGUE DO NOT STAND FOR YOURSELF ALONE BUT SMILE AND COMPETE AND SHINE BUT I AM NOONE'S SUN BUT MY OWN IN WINTER ITS COLD IN THE LATE AFTERNOONS I OFTEN SCALE THE HIGHER OUTER BANKS THE ALLEY WAYS THE SPACES BETWEEN THE CLIPPED HEDGEROWS AND SOLID FENCES I FEEL WEDGED IN BUT I MUST DO THIS THERE IS A NECESSSITY FOR THIS A SECRET WHICH I DON'T SHARE WITH ANYONE IN SUMMER I THINK ON THE DEEP CHILL WITHIN AND WITHOUT OF THE BRICK/MORTAR BUILDINGS STIFF WALLS OF COLD AND OF WINTER LURKING AROUND THE CORNER OF MY MIND SPREADING ITS WHITE FINGERS OUT AND LEERING THERE WAS A DOG WHO ONCE WAS MY DOG WHO LIVED IN A FRAIL OUTSIDE HOUSE NEAR THE STREET WITH NO SHELTER FROM THE WIND HIS ONLY BLANKET A BLANKET OF BLOWN SNOW THE DOG I LOVED DIED HERE FROZEN AND FORGOTTEN IN THE SNOW WE BOUGHT AND LIVED IN THAT CAST-OFF HOUSE OF THE PROUD RICH DOCTOR WHERE MY DOG DIED HIS SPOILED CHILDREN FORGOT HIM TIRED OF HIM IGNORED HIS PAIN I DO NOT UNDERSTAND THESE OTHER-PEOPLE WITH HOLES IN THE HEARTS AND COMFORT ALWAYS WITHIN THEIR GRASP I DO NOT WANT TO UNDERSTAND ONE DAY I WILL HAVE THE COURAGE TO SPIT IN THEIR FACES THEN TURN MY SOLID BACK ON THEM AND TURN WALKING AWAY IN MY BARE FEET IN THE SNOW. LEGAL COPYRIGHT FOR THIS POEM 10:08AM PST 9/14/2021 (I BEGAN WRITING THIS YESTERDAY AND REVISED TODAY TO WRITE DOWN HERE.) AND ALSO FOR THIS LEGALLY COPYRIGHTED WRITER/POET MELISSA A. HOWELLS....AND ALSO FOR THIS LEGALLY COPYRIGHTED AND REGISTERED SITE TITLE NAME: MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD. THIS IS STRAIGHT FROM MY WORLD. THE DOG HAD A NAME BOOTSY. I DON'T KNOW IF THEY TOOK THAT AWAY FROM HIM TOO. THE DOCTOR WAS A HIGHLY PAID SURGEON WITH A SPECIFIC SPECIALTY. HE REPAIRED CRUSHED LIMBS. IRONIC ISN'T IT...HOW HE COULD TAKE SO MUCH CARE FOR CRUSHED HANDS AND OTHER BONES OF THE HUMAN BODY...BUT HE COULD CRUSH THE SOUL A A HOPEFUL DOG FREEZING OUTSIDE IN THE SNOW. HE IS STILL ALIVE AND 91 YEARS OLD. KARMA IS COMING FOR HIM, I HOPE. Vote for this poem |
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