The Visions Nightly Gather

the visions nightly gather
around my mother’s bed
she fears to lose the light
she huddles like a child
who needs a low lit lamp
and dreads the lullaby
she hides inside the story books
and keeps the bell at hand
her bedside charms are bastions
against that other land

the visions nightly gather
around my mother’s bed
she knows that all her visitors
are shadows of the dead

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