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Mother's Wishbones, No Doubt

MOTHER'S WISHBONES, NO DOUBT All furculae with not a fragment of dried-up flesh or sinew to despoil their luster — the slew of them ranging in size from Cornish hen to turkey. Funny, I’d never noticed her extricate one, strip it clean, secrete it somewhere long-forgotten. I took possession of those bones, pried loose some of my own from birds broiled, barbequed, fried; primed each, applied gold leaf. Made more of them than Mother could’ve ever conceived — the gilt, over the generations of bones brittling whole, striking beneath the wait of wishes.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2014

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Date: 10/1/2014 10:58:00 AM
After I looked up furcula this was a real treat. Congrats on the selection. daver
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Sabath Rosenthal Avatar
Ruth Sabath Rosenthal
Date: 10/1/2014 11:57:00 AM
Hi Dave, Thanks for your comments. Glad I was able to increase your already well-stocked lexicon! Isn't the English language fantastic! I love to play with words, and I see with your poems you do. Ruth