Alien, knotted silk presents,
Stiff and climbing petal-drops
Clinging to havens lost.
What's left to hold
the mother's soul,
facing the changing horizon?
She started with a new world-
A pilgrimage hastily made safe,
then, undone
Behind an unchanged face,
Still beautiful after this.
Now she blooms in empty halls-
A lady in stained glass,
Behind the empty windows-
Her calligraphy of shadows.
Still masked, she holds firm
The casualties of smiling war.
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