Pressed for time
Ironed out, smoothed
Steamed and pleated,
Folded for her closet
Set away and neatly stacked.
Different patterns and fabrics
Organised to her sense
In the dark, waiting
On shelves handcrafted,
Together, wrinkles relaxed
Creases linger, unwritten lines.
Dust swirls, pricks of light blink
On and off
Time washes everything, and
Returns it, folded, to its place.
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