i found her face locked in a frame

I skipped the 7th prompt due to time travel. here it is.

In keeping with the fact that it’s the seventh day of NaPoWriMo/GloPoWriMo, Elizabeth and I challenge you to write a poem about luck and fortuitousness.

i found her face locked in a frame
upright on oak in one room that creaks
windows showed that cotton of the carolinas

she wore a white dress buttoned to her chin
and she looked to be my kin
proper, rigid, unafraid
of the life she’d made

she was a past and a future me
not sure if she was owned or free
not sure how she was lucky

i wanted to scoop all of her up
the photo and all the memories
her lovers and all her mysteries
to know how she survived it

moroccan rugs and journals full
of ego, heartache, rail and bull
i wonder where she journeyed

i want to lay her in the box
of all the other things i’ve lost
echoes of an intimate past
the detritus that lasts

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