Gabrielle Gassin

Spindles do not spin

When they are interrupted –

The walls mumbling

Bush creatures creeping,

Little feet moving hurriedly down the hall

Oblivious to the stomping underway

As the mind is carried far

From the dreams that have taunted

His young mind

Un-freed from adult things

Happenings stained with sadness

Unnecessary – not present in waking state

And distressing thoughts

discomposing ordeals, nighttime remodelled

Into a thing of fear

And once his mother’s protection

Armours him – a steadfast shield,

Adjacency is not sufficient,

His needs stipulate

A return to the womb, almost –

Tiny toes penetrate the space

Between her thigh and the mattress

And sleeping limbs drape

Discourteously, over her

And he is healed, somewhat

From the terrors of the night

And so good, for him

But for her, twilight is fractured

The repose splintered,

And though this event is not incipient

the afflicted mind perseverates

To face Another Day