Family Bones
Side by side
in the diner,
Gram and I
read menus;
my boyfriend read
our bones
and faces.
The two Maggies,
the family resemblance.
I look
like my namesake.
I used to
look
like my mother.
She’s become
the missing link
in a chain
of bright-eyed women:
Mom,
where did
your face go?
Why did you
weary the bones
the mapped us?
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Interesting, for sure!