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Her fingers never stop weaving,
Though Brother says softly, "He's gone."
She keeps making yarn color-swirls:
This blanket that will never warm.
Though Brother says softly, "He's gone,"
She leads scarlet through green field in
This blanket that will never warm.
Cousin weeps, "He won't come home."
She leads scarlet through green field in
Her creation of lines, squares, hearts;
Cousin weeps, "He won't come home."
Clutching letter, still Mother sits.
Her creation of lines, squares, hearts--
She only wants Father to smile.
Clutching letter, still Mother sits;
The grievers stare into silence.
She only wants Father to smile;
She keeps making yarn color-swirls.
The grievers stare into silence:
Her fingers never stop weaving.
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