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THE COMPANY THAT WE KEEP WITH THE ONE WITHIN

The Great Tsunami Of Our Growing Grief written 3/2.2021--retitled 3/14/2021

Kathy Brown Kathy Brown

Something Not Quite Right About Here (Vortex) re-edited 1/26/2023

THE COOL TILES BENEATH MY FEET REMIND ME



After Wide Sargasso Sea

Like A Small Street Dog Lured In By The Promise Of Meat

I'd Like To Be Your Shirt (when you wake up in the morning)

This Is What Mermaids Dream Of

The Way Of The Crow

Words Between Edward And Jane

WAITING ON THE WORLD (March/February 2021 poetry)

DO YOU TURN THE LIGHTS SO YOU CAN SLEEP?

When Mr. Bemish Lost His Last Good Pair of Glasses

If Prejudice Were Dumb And Could Not Speak

My Grey Haired Love...La La Lullaby , La La Lullaby My Love

Certainly No Bread 3/16/2022

CHRONICLER OF DREAMS

YET ANOTHER ANTI-POETRY POEM ( re-edited 11/2/2022)

You Do As You Please 8/17/2005 found poem, readjusted 6/20/22

HERE WE SIT AT OUR TABLE 2/19/2022

Much Better Than This ( A Conversation With The Universe)

The Straight Story (What Happens When The Writer Inserts You Into Her Story)

THE TIDE CALLED LONELINESS

THE HEART IS AN ORGAN ON FIRE

A Girl Always Leaning Forward Looking for A Breeze

Entanglements

Have You Ever... (DECEMBER 4/2021)

Appetites

How I Still Love You

The Smile Which Eludes @

He Says To Me, I Think Too Much (and hence dream too much as well)

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A Girl  Always  Leaning Forward Looking for A Breeze


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steering with my small unsteady hands
I've turned the corners of my life
steering into the fall
often
stumbling
and skinning my heart

my heart
often exposed to the fall
and wide open

caught, too, in the dampness
like the well-read used book
left spine up on a dewy
out all night Spring morning

my pages bent backwards
knowing that the spine
(where my heart lives...)
might bend too far
and my pages
might unravel and break apart

and when dancing
that same heart dared to wear
see-through dresses
hoping that my invisibility
might be seen

my waif-like tenderness
hidden somewhere beneath two
shelf-like breasts
my navy blue eyes and smile
and a ruffling skirt rising high over my knees
my pulse matching the pulse
of the music

it was
it is
a freedom to live in my own
made-up places
for I belong to me

looking backwards
I'd like to snare an older piece of myself
with my butterfly net
being careful not to snap my wings

I'm not yet an old-woman
with broken legs
but a girl always leaning forward
looking for a breeze

LEGAL COPYRIGHT FRO THIS POEM/JANUARY 22, 2022 8:08 AM PACIFIC STANDARD TIME
TIME AND DATE STAMPED/ AND ALSO FOR THIS WRITER/POET
MELISSA A. HOWELLS AND ALSO FOR THIS LEGALLY COPYRIGHTED AND
REGISTERED SITE TITLE    MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD


NEARLY FULLY FORMED WHILST DOING THE FOREVER PILE OF LAUNDRY
YESTERDAY AND FOLDED, THE POEM NEW AND UNWRINKLED ONTO THE PAGE TODAY...1/22/2022





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