Just over two decades old
It’s seen better days
The fabric fading, aged
Evident signs of use
One side a plain, pale pink
The other white and baby blue
With tiny squares, hearts,
And baby buggies
The stitching isn’t straight
But I run my fingers over the threads
And feel the care imbued into it
When it was crafted and put together
Wrapped around me
Like a warm hug
Reaching across the years
A sister’s labor of love
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