Day's End

after the joyous racket of my car stereo
my apartment seems deafeningly still

there is only the dull pulsing bass of a neighbor
and the swish of my pants
as I walk from room to room
arms filling and emptying
returning each object to its rightful home

pushing aside bits of paper
I strip off the jewelry of the day
sparkling against inlaid cherrywood

my simple coif that framed this morning
has been blown to pieces by the winter gales
and I haphazardly secure with a band
a wayward lock seeking out my cheekbone

slipping cool cotton against my sore muscles
I fall into the mold of my pillowtop
embraced by downy warmth
glasses set gently beside extinguished lamp

the blurry shadows descend
and tracking sleep eventually pounces