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| Snapshot 1967 |
| Her father lay dying in the next room a protracted and painful death Too soon in its coming Not quick enough in its arrival Her mother sat with her head in her hands Wearied with the care of him And the demands of two small children Her sister, one year older, Ran rampant through the house Taking pleasure in the cracking of the older sibling whip And she, the smallest one, Purposefully oblivous, Sat in the corner and played with her toys |
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