My delicate china lady

dressed in white

a flouncy dress

and decorative hat

stands with poise

at the foot of my bed


you guard my repose

you light up the passage


The hall doorway closed

to idle grown-up play

so I do not feel scared when

stairs creak

with small footsteps

apples drop onto stones

skeletons spiral from my closet


I do not feel scared

but watch for the cheerful wink

of your unblinking lamp

—Anne Curran


A version of this poem appears in Valley Micropress (July 2017).

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