melissaahowells
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more than fifty winters ago
I was a girl avoiding going home playing at king of the hill and pushing other child soldiers down a small snow mountain children avoid the painful by playing hooky and games don't they? on the Odyssey home I ran into two more monsters two Catholic boys with murderous intent my only ally fled across the street and watched one of them knock me down and break and bloody my nose with his boot but now the story changes because a dream has made it so you entered from the air a long lithe white comely cat with razor-like talons you frightened the boy-monsters away and as I held my small hand to my nose it still hurt but was no longer bleeding you wrapped yourself around my legs and marked me with your scent and chirped like I was a favorite bird the noise a happy feline makes when its watchful and engrossed considering a winged thing but soon enough the wrapped warmth around my feet was gone vanished the way a cat leaves and into the sky from which you always enter another ghost memory and present mix and seem to make a recipe within a dream is the only way it seems you do come back to me LEGAL COPYRIGHT FOR THIS MUSE/POEM 2:22 AM PST OCTOBER 27 2022 TIME AND DATE STAMPED AND ALSO FOR THIS DREAM CHRONICLER/POET/WRITER MELISSA A. HOWELLS AND ALSO FOR THIS LEGALLY COPY-WRITTEN AND REGISTERED SITE TITLE MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD Vote for this poem |
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