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  16m Whit Howland
Bee
how do you love someone?
do you pull things out and
put them back together again?
like a worn down car my heart
won’t stop sputtering at all
the broken parts
but i fear that a car can
shut down if it’s made to
believe it’s broken in
the first place

how do you love someone?
do you find a place to hide
inside of their chest and worm
your way into their fantastic brain
so that you understand how the fireworks
in your tummy shoot off under their flame?
does magic go away when you’ve unearthed
its hiding place?

how do you love someone?
do you take their hand just to
squeeze it again and again?
do you feel their heartbeat
racing to you, for you; always for you?
do you bear the weight of
keeping their heart in the right place?

i haven’t quite found where it stays
but id like to meet you there someday
Now
a faded pair
of blue jeans

that served us well
as shadows set in
and pretty soon

there'll be nothing to see
and not much to tell
other than what we can glean

by the cold light
of a glinting sharp
silvery moon

whit howland © 2021
a word painting
Another lunatic trip to
the hospital.
Nine days, this
go around.
For the first two
days, I just pulled
the covers over my
head and pretended I
was back in the womb.
It was warm and safe.
As much as I
wanted to stay,
I knew it was time to
be reborn into this
strange world of
sick streets, and
broken dreams.
balding head
crows feet
wisdom lines

this life my life
is light years away
as I sit on the edge of the boat

with feet on the dock
staring at it like Mars
Jupiter or maybe the moon

my mom my grandmother
and grandfather
still in tow

whit howland © 2021
Sometimes
it's just a gray

windswept day
and we do our best

to find the beauty
in the churning

roiling clouds
above

and the soggy

uneven earth
squishing

under our feet

whit howland © 2021
Every day I strive
to radiate

the power
of a thousand suns

I fight the good fight
no matter how much

my mind says
it's a losing battle

and tries to saddle me
with the yoke of self-doubt

whit howland © 2021
An abstract word painting. An original.
Whit Howland Apr 30
Quick
like quick

silver
winged feet

messenger
too fast to ****

whit howland © 2021
An abstract minimal word-painting, An original.
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