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186th Weekly Poetry Contest winner: Ochre

by beezley115

Sometimes the patterns when I shut my eyes look like a series of lines arching up
into a ribcage. A great ancestral
skeleton. [Or, a canopy of firs crossing over my path.]
Not a mother, but a reminder. What I used to belong to
and maybe still could, if I tried. If I closed my eyes.

See all the entrants to 186th Weekly Poetry Contest