Abby's Room (sonnet)

Abby's Room
© Sara L. Russell, 3rd July, 2002.

In Abby's room the shadows slowly spin
deforming and re-forming in the air
shape-shifting with the subtlety of djinn
enveloping her dolls, and tattered bear.

In Abby's room a chair stands up askance
revolving in a stately arabesque,
grim faces come and go where dust motes dance,
as unseen hands open and close the desk.

The door is always locked to Abby's room,
All sudden noise is left as unexplained,
No cut flowers in this house will ever bloom,
Rarely are any house guests entertained.

When darkness writhes, when silence seems to roar,
Tread cautiously when passing Abby's door.