Watching through the curtains, she judges the day.
The moody winter sun filters through the fabric and
becomes small, peppered sparks in her weary eyes.
Watching through the curtains, she judges the day.
The moody winter sun filters through the fabric and
becomes small, peppered sparks in her weary eyes.
Love the photo and poem – which reminded me of the lace makers of old, who made it all by hand, often in very dim light. So no wonder, the weary eyes 🙂
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Thank you.
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Oh I like it… Reminds me of my grandma behind these curtains, these are exact ones we used to have…. thank you for bringing back memories!
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Glad I could bring a good memory your way today.
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a magical image for me
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Ah, all things that conjure magic are so so good.
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Classy curtains. And I am thinking of an elderly woman who may have made the curtains. –Curt
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Not sure if she made them. Interesting lady who’s seen a lot of life for sure.
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