Delighted to find a poem by Maria Gillan on today's Writer's Almanac. She reads this one frequently (or at least, I've heard her read it a few times here in The Jersey) . Nice to have the King of Ordinary recognize.
A bit from the middle, formatted improperly, as always:
.....Was her heart a bitter
raisin, her anger so deep
it could have cut a road through the mountain? I touch the
tablecloth she made,
the delicate scrollwork, try to reach back to Donna Laura, feel
her life shaping itself into laced patterns
and scalloped edges from all those years between her young
womanhood and old age.
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