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Apr 2018
(NaPoWriMo Challenge: April 6, 2018)

When I moved to the Interior,
the wonderland of wet greens,
I met an explorer years deep
in her expeditions
of sunken ships and newsrooms,
lunch counters and single, spy moms.
A researcher combing through libraries,
she was writing codices to the future
hunters of relics.

I became a tagalong junior
and spent friends for it,
friends I liked.
That was the cost of the bounty
as was a dollface or two.

We were constantly and violently
shipwrecked and our soap operas
were salacious. The blonde one
could never be a lady killer.
The mustached one
we turned into a villain.
We were powerful overlords.
We were the deciders.
We swooned over brunettes
but they were hard to come by
in our villages and townhomes.

We scared ourselves in the mystery
but we were brave. We survived
on desert islands. We starved
and swam the channels
and went to college periodically.
We covered a million miles,
and vanquished.
We were celebrated
in a thousand books.
These poems for NaPoWriMo were inspired by a poem I did years ago for my friend Michelle after hearing she passed away, 30 poems for inspiring women connected to me. The title now says "33 Women" because the poem to Michelle poem had already been written as well as two prologues I posted March 31.

See Krissy here!
Mary McCray
Written by
Mary McCray
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