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OH HOW I
gave away myself for years
mere bones are left
very little taut flesh to pluck from them
I'm bereft
and getting smaller.
I ask the night
I ask the shadows
I ask the wind
am I still here and
elemental?!
Is there still somewhere where I still begin--
where there's still pieces of me
transcendental?
If there's a trace then why
am I truly torn
my old cobwebs do not cling
the eyes of my face do not recognize
the face to which I was born.
Now bent over, nearly stooped
my once broad proud shoulders hunched
sagged I'm two twin loops.
the chest caves in
the breath she weasels
the sure-footed dancing deer
falters in broken two-step prances
with each foot fall
sinking, sinking.
LEGAL COPYRIGHT FOR THIS POEM JULY 9 2024
WRITTEN IN BEAVERTON OREGON CEDAR HILLS
AND ALSO FOR THIS AUTHOR, POET MELISSA A. HOWELLS
AND ALSO FOR THIS LEGALLY COPYRIGHTED AND COPYRIGHT
REGISTERED SITE TITLE--MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD@
