January 25, 2012
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Cold feet freeze in frigid ground
Shoes are long gone.
I wish I had my
Pink frilly socks
With my dark blue socks

Can mother tell that brother needs them
More than I?
Brother and I work in the mines.
Mother hands me her shoes.
“I’m leaving. Good-bye.”
She is selected. I never see her again.

Her black boots aren’t pretty.
But their hers. But there hers.
My inheritance.

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