Safe

Walls upon walls
lean shoulder to shoulder,
joining hands like closed shells
holding in the safe.

Silver leaf patterns
spread veined shadows,
unfolding like paper parasols
opening over raining grief.

Moth-eaten afghans
kiss musty garments,
smelling like dead relatives
resting in mind graves.

Lazy light bulbs
drip, bead by bead,
lulling like suspended honeycombs
baptizing foreheads with sweet sleep.

Mirrors within windows
cloak stark realities,
stalking like faceless marauders
letting go the fear.

© 2004 Linda L. Bielowski, Ph.D.

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