by Phibby Venable
There is a panic of loud voices and low growls
but the child stays hidden
She wears her red sweater the laundries have worn soft
She is drenched with anxiety and wipes her sweaty hands
softly in the hair of her doll
She is wary of hands & hurt
Hidden beneath the porch, she closes her eyes
shutting out the dangerous dark
and groping hands
She is alert & very quiet
She is building a castle of white roses
to hide in at night.