Alice’s door

Alice’s door

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

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 

almost out of reach
a door handle speaks
makes plain its enduring message   

on tiptoe we go
not even sure of slipping through unscathed

shrinkand grow
shrinkand grow
this is the way our fantasies go…

© Genista Lewes     from ‘Cat’s Cradle’

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