soft hills of burgundy and yellow 
blending into one another,
a scene she perhaps imagined
at 16, alone in that hospital bed
after they placed metal rods
along her spine, dividing her body
like the fence posts slicing through
the middle of her painting, 
harsh brown repeating lines, 
the only manmade thing 
on these hills the color of flesh


NaPoWriMo/GloPoWriMo Day 22: Use http://www.napowrimo.net/day-twenty-two-5/the poem to express something about another form of art

One thought on “my mother’s painting

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