Poke-A-Dot Scarf

Around her neck
A strip of cloth
Blue edged with red
And yellow dots.
Primarily worn on
Days she felt
Too gray
Or evenings
Lacking light.
For thirty years
Each Thursday washed
By hand then hung
To dry

With tears and fears
Evaporate,
Or do they?
Strange, she thinks
On Fridays why
There is one
New red or yellow
Poke-a-dot.

Oil stick on paper.

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