Knolls of clothing dot the rug, a
Rainbow of empty plastic hangers
Sway with every pass. Hot rollers
Get a little hotter, round and rectangle
Compacts litter the counter, waiting to
Give her a face to face the world.
She picks up things and puts them down,
Making decisions and easily changing her
Mind. A timid little queen of a tiny kingdom,
Running her life within the walls of her
Walk-In, avoiding the subjection that waits
Outside the closet door.