Poised on the edge of the bed
she sits in sharp light,
pointed feet barely touching
the dim floor.

Through fear-filled, furrowed brow
she stares at the encroaching shadow.

I want to protect her, reach into the canvas
and take her home,
adopt her
make her my grand-daughter
hold her safe and warm
make her whole
watch her dance
fearless
in the golden morning.

As I despair
another little girl approaches the painting,
and broadly smiles in recognition,
nodding to this new-found playmate.

She knows how morning light
always pushes back
the black night.

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