Movement
She works with pieces of thread
Some black beads
White metal ones
Small heaps
That lie, the orange plastic
That crackle
With some movement
Hands string
Come and see
The evil will be warded off
A few others like her
At the same work
The faithful walk past
To climb that hill
575 steps hewn into the rock
A child stops and looks
A smile, a tug
Feet walk on
The revels of the sun
At their peak
A shade, a pause
Feet move on.
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