My Mother Is
My Mother Is
my blonde roots I’ve box dyed black since I was 17
a sunrise in Barcelona
a sunset on Highway 70
the stretch marks between my thighs
a ripe tomato, sliced and salted
an empty pantry
a school ceremony with no one in the crowd
moonlight on the levee
every Bob Dylan song
a redwood tree
an unlived dream
Copyright © Amy Collins | Year Posted 2025
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