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“Sonia! . . . Sonia! . . . Where the devil have you gone, child? Sonia!”
A Jewish woman calls her little girl in from the patio of her apartment.
It’s five in the afternoon, and as it’s midwinter…
Worn and torn by many fingers
It stands on the bedroom dresser,
Resting back against its single cardboard buttress,
(There were two)
The gilt clasp that bound it, loose and broken,
The beautiful…