Her hands still ladylike and soft,
But strong from working hard.
The spoonmaker sat straddle her blue tool box
Dressed in pink and blue check day-dress and an apron
Embellished with pink trim.
Ignoring the crowd and the noonday sun,
She pounded with her wooden mallet.
She chiseled out pieces of wood.
Her gray/white hair strayed in her face
She didn't mind. She was making
Something useful, something fine.
Something beautiful.
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