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POEM: Kitty


Really I barely knew her.
She was the wife
of my great-uncle Bill,
and I barely knew him either.
Neither of my kids
would even recognize their names.
But she sat in a room once,
maybe with the sun coming in,
and painted a delicate pitcher
full of flowers.
Was it there in the room?
Did she use a photograph?
Had she always wanted to be a painter?

/ / /

3 April 2024
Charlottesville VA
NaPoWriMo Day 3

Published in My poems NaPoWriMo2024 Poetry


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