Anticipation grew as she cut
each piece into squares.
Denim, floral, a solid color,
then stripes.
Materials were taken from her old
dresses and Papa's overalls.
Tedious handstitching secured
each print to its place.
My sister and I watched every push
of the needle loom completion.
"This one is mine! No, it is mine!
She gave you the last one."
All the while, she kept on sewing
knowing beforehand of their eager
wonderment; who gets this one?
Tying the red threads atop, keeping
thoughts to herself, a smile escaped
the corners of her mouth.
This one is Granny's quilt.
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