Comfort in the Familiar (2009)
The tips of her fingers brushed the spines of her books
standing guard upon sturdy shelving encircling the room.
The iron bed was spread with Battenberg lace
and the requisite matching dust ruffle.
Hearing rumbling outside her door,
she took a peek down the long hallway.
Surely something exciting must be happening,
as there was brightness where once darkness.
With hurried steps, she went to the shelf
opened the lid to the oak box holding the key.
Growing impatient, she clumsily unlocked
the shackle attached to her ankle.
Ignoring the disapproving stares of her people,
she tip-toed into the hallway.
Her fingers calmed her trembling lips as
gilded frames gave way to ebony and glass.
Her pounding heart deafened her ears,
she reached the end, or maybe the beginning.
She found her room decked out in modern design–
it was both shocking and intriguing.
Shielding her eyes,
she raced back,
slammed the door shut,
clamped on the shackle,
returned the key,
before collapsing into the overstuffed chair.
© Liza Bennett
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