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The Mother MAG
on the patio she lounges
enjoying the swift zephyrs
of an autumn morning
her shoulders, wrapped snug
in a ragged zentangle-printed shawl
mask the freckles collected
like tally marks for every day
of skipped sunscreen
her breast, a petal of hibiscus
plucked at by her youngest child
who now stretches the length
of her extended arm
her eyes of shaded copper
beam brightness, vibrancy
but shade creeps out from beneath
her lower lids, forming contrast
her hair, untamed, shows traces
of silver gradient, glistening
from her scalp, strands slowly fading
lacking pigments, replaced with whiteness
unraveling, an ephemeral bloom
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