Parts And Pieces Poem by Abigail Valkenburg

Yes, my arms and legs are me you see
What is wrong with two blue circles in brown
Whether upstanding or slightly sharp down I frown
From a catching continent this was sent to me.

Banished branch, you are not the trustworthy tree
Four wheels are not the vehicle or the van
You think they transport pomegranates of our clan
No, distinguished sages have studied your plea.

Yes, my lengthy scarlet thread is not simply straight
It's tossed like a knight move in a game of chess
Not only one but one-third and eligible eight.

Languishing for her city is the arm of my right
Longing for its luster her generational mess
Reaching out to index its intriguing height.