Our Jack-in-the-Box

Wind me on its metal coil
frozen by rust, time

(Taken thirty years prior through a touch,
a half-forgotten childhood slinking beneath its lid)

Wind me on its tiny spindle
taut to explosive

(Its jester returning thirty years over to a laugh,
undiluted joy - my niece’s open eyes)

Spin me like a Catherine Wheel
sadly real,
performing

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This poem was Highly Commended (Teacher) for Poetry Object 2016

Judge's Notes:
"In this striking poem the narrator is part of the object; the need to be incorporated into the jack-in-a-box is evoked right at the start: ‘Wind me on its metal coil …’. Indeed, all the repetitions, which replicate the idea of such a toy, relate to the idea of winding and spinning, so that the poem’s world is also this object, and completely in the three un-bracketed stanzas: wind me, wind me, spin me. But there is also a fascinating formal move within the poem, a call and response perhaps. The longer bracketed stanza are like a whispered counterpoint or explanation of the provenance of this toy, the memories that lie within it and that connect it to the present, particularly the niece of the narrator. Although that stanza leaves us with a child’s joy, the final stanza returns to the metallic melancholy of ‘sadly real, / performing’. Such is the give and take the poem moves within."
~ Jill Jones, Judge, Poetry Object 2016