She hung on the wall
opposite the stairs –

hair full, bulbous,
entirely aware of itself.

Her chestnut eyes fixed
upon the black leather recliner,
indented and empty.

In uneasy dreams
she turned her gaze
toward me and let me know
she understood all of my worrying
if Dad would come home,
if Mom would cry herself to sleep again,
if I would awaken wet and ashamed.