melissaahowells
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Going through a junk drawer after Grandma Alta died I went through all of her keepsakes realizing none of the items within the drawer was ordinary each keepsake had a part and a voice in telling her story an ebony toothpick holder a cloth-covered button from a favorite maroon silk crepe dress when she was seventeen sales receipts from Kmart in the 70's and photographs with lipstick kisses on the back of them in carnelian red each object a poem of her past I think now about your words and poetry as I read and reread them little arrows that they are guideposts of language which lead me to each new small piece of delight I only have to look and find you there waiting how did you do that that simmering down of juice into sweet jam no sugar necessary as I read I don't want to miss all the juicy little chunks each word weighed and measured for its heft I believe there is nothing too small in this world that does not deserve our notice small words never small small looks magnifying the heart glances not quite telling you everything but leaving you desiring more you and your words and your poetry are like that continuing discoveries which entice me forward into you thank you for being your own treasure ///////\\\\\\\ LEGAL COPYRIGHT FOR THIS POEM 9:51am PST 1/14/2022 TIME/DATE STAMPED AND ALSO FOR THIS POET/WRITER MELISSA A. HOWELLS AND ALSO FOR THIS LEGALLY COPYRIGHTED AND REGISTERED SITE TITLE MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD THIS POEM IS MORE THAN JUST ABOUT MY GRANDMOTHER ALTA THIS IS ALL INCLUSIVE ...AND INCLUDES ANY AND ALL PEOPLE I'VE MET EACH WHO HAVE THEIR OWN POETRY TO SHARE WITH ME IN LIVING THEIR LIVES AND IN SHARING THE TREASURE THAT IS THEM.... Vote for this poem |
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