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  • In memory of my mother :-)

    White Bones
    By K Johnston

    Her eyes were a jewellery box of heirlooms.
    Her home was an army of proud warriors, dancing,
    Her movements were an ocean in winter,
    Her hands were a roadmap to anywhere.
    And her mouth was a fence which housed spring flowers.

    Her world was rice scattered on grubby linoleum.
    Her expression was a small darting rabbit
    Her knuckles were white arum lilies.
    Her forehead was a heavy seaweed sinking
    And her mouth was unsweetened tea.

    Her cheeks were a dug out trench.
    Her hair was thinned carrots, in rows,
    Her frown was a screwed up piece of paper,
    Her hospital room, was a cheap french manicure.
    And her mouth was a violin without strings.

    Her face was the cool shadow from a tree.
    Her body was an old sweater, in the corner,
    Her skin was the last Ash Wednesday.
    Her casket was a bottle of exotic Brandy.
    And her mouth.
    was a Swan
    in the
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