Winding Down

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The day ends,
bringing a sense of surprised escape
from a jail fenced in by a towering jumble
of building blocks thrown from a toy box
by a blundering giant,
the bricks making jagged walls and dead-end tunnels
through which I crawled,
tucking panic under a laughing mask,
my consciousness screaming, the stubborn silence
of my brave face blinding my eyes,
showing me nothing but the next task.

I fumbled forward,
cuts and bruises blooming in the dark.
Distracted by my acts,
pain translated into mumbling ache
which I sluggishly shoved aside.

Now sanctuary melts the ice,
awakening me to the grazes that sting my mind;
in the shock of hindsight
I briefly see scarlet clots expanding
in harsh white light
that sliced between erratic shards
and sharply trimmed each blackened shadow.

A magnanimous evening
ambles in to wave an amber goodnight,
its travelling rays casually caressing carefully collected
reflections of nature,
highlighting details of prized pieces.
A slice of fresh air lifts and expands
the clean fragrance of lavender and beeswax,
banishing my ramshackle day
to the skittish world of was and maybe;
breathing deeply,
I relax.

©Jane Paterson Basil

13 thoughts on “Winding Down

  1. You’ve penned a myriad of images here, and for some reason your opening lines really hit me.
    “The day ends,
    bringing a sense of surprised escape
    from a jail fenced in by a towering jumble
    of building blocks thrown from a toy box
    by a blundering giant,”

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Leave it to a poet to describe a tough day in a way that it becomes a metaphor for the human condition. The brilliant image of child’s blocks thrown down by a giant — that works on so many levels. Your day, humanity’s days, the near indifference of the gods to the problems they cause us, etc.

    Hope things are soon looking up for you Jane.

    Liked by 1 person

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