Mother and the Monsters
The hand is warm and frail, but the heart strong
and the hall is dark and deep, and colder.
As they step the night howls, its fierce reach long
for it lurks in silence, even bolder.
She leads slowly, one small step at a time,
e’er unbroken as she is wont to act.
Even with this hunched back now past its prime,
she leads carefully, to leave both intact.
Past the other bends and breaks, the hall ends,
and the child sits still, starting to whimper.
In the room she goes, to the dark she tends,
and, returning, curves her mouth to simpler.
The coast is clear. Nothing lurks in the deep.
Still, she joins the child. Together they sleep.
Dan Owen De Vera is a freshman at SUNY University at Buffalo, where he is studying computer science.