Alice’s door

i

a teapot’s silvery curves

our world reflected in its polished cheek

 

so how to sneak through

 

how to spread ourselves thin

avoid the taint of patina

 

and what will be left behind

traces of temper   a coloured stain on the cloth

 

a cup of cooling tea

 

ii

 

we perch at the limits

of the earth’s unstable core

 

breathe in the verdigris of  prejudice

trip over rhetoric   are laid out like cards

 

on a glass table

no-one has yet seen through

 

iii

 

almost out of reach

a door handle speaks

makes plain its enduring message   

 

on tiptoe we go

not even sure of slipping through unscathed

 

 

iv

 

shrinkand grow

shrinkand grow

this is the way our fantasies go…

 

 

© Genista Lewes     from ‘Cat’s Cradle’

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