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In her ode to The Umbrella, Viola Canales remembers a family story about her mother, who every Saturday as a child "popped open her prized child's bright umbrella / as did her little sister / and followed their mother's adult one / from their Paloma barrio home / to downtown Main Street McAllen / walking like ducks in a row / street after street," until one Saturday "the littlest one disappeared / inside the wilderness of Woolworth's." Warm-hearted
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