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		<title>Holly McClain | WritersCafe.org</title>
		<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/HollyMcClain</link>
		<description>The original writings of author Holly McClain</description>
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		<copyright>Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org</copyright>
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			<title>Red Dancing Ponies</title>
			<description>A child size record player in it's owncasewith a white handle and a real needle.It played read-a-long stories in asweet sing along voice.  Urging me to turn the page for one more line,one more little bear tasting hisporridge,one more little piggie's housedestroyed,or Strawb..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HollyMcClain/1292912/</link>
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			<title>My Voice Sings the Shame</title>
			<description>Six years old and we sing.My voice blends with yours to thecar radio in the Olds Delta 88.My heart a serenade in the long benchseat.&amp;ldquo;Mom don't we sing good together?&amp;rdquo;And you say we do.Your words graffittied the years.  At 13, I hear you in the other room,&amp;..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HollyMcClain/1287930/</link>
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			<title>My Mother's Cookware</title>
			<description>When I entered the kitchen, I sawher pans hovering over the porcelainstove top.The small circles of flames licking thebottom of each pan in Marion adoration.These are my mother's pans, her oncenew cookware.The ones she pulled proudly from thebox and unwrapped like a late life..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HollyMcClain/1279095/</link>
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			<title>Pleated</title>
			<description>A thread of fearStitched into my spineWhen drawnPulls the vertebrae intoPleats of longing.</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/HollyMcClain/1278801/</link>
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