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The Hands of His Dresden Doll
by Mary Langer Thompson

It was a covert operation,
giving her money for the candy store,
except this time she didn't buy candy
but caps and a cap pistol.

No one had told her
not to rip the red rolls,
that they could ignite
unexpectedly burn
her fingers.

And no one ever told her
that her father's tears
when he came home from work
and saw the bandages
were as much for the burning
of his home town as for
his daughter's hands.


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