Kind Of Thankful For
    John Melvin
The air: especially cold air.
The water: where speckled creatures breathe.
The earth: where flies rise and return.
The fire: flickering behind screens.
Beyond these: not much more.
Maybe trees.

Not promises: their wording is wrong.
Not strength: it never sits still.
Definitely the earth, though.
Probably even warm air.
And, trees.

With fire behind a screen
people make shadow puppets.
They say trees are a mixture
of earth and fire because
they burn and leave ashes.
So maybe trees are redundant here.

People? Sometimes, but they are strong
and full of promise.
People are such
speckled creatures,
instead of being like trees
which are made of fire and earth.

Only people aren't redundant.
At least I hope so.

  Your Dreams

    John Melvin
Last night I dreamt the beginning
of a poem so quick and honest
I'd never have to write again.
Freed from that burden I woke.
Waking, I forgot the words.
I worked at the words to convince
no one in particular of my victory
over defeat. I managed
another day of failure. For dinner:
fresh tomatoes with vinegar,
bread and strong coffee.


In Posse: Potentially, might be ...