Donelda’s find

On the second globe in great Alpheratz’s sway,

little Donelda comes to herself

at the sound of trickling water.

In the stream’s iridescence,

something bobs,

circle-twirls in the undertow of an eddy.

This day, the water is warm,

and her thin fingers feel no change

as she scoops up the doll.

Raggedy Ann has made it through.

Together, they’ll be just fine.

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