Death’s Sheen

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I heave a sigh
releasing a torrent that sends shivers across
harmonious surfaces of dead, polished teak – made to smile,
prettily tweaked, still incomplete and devoid of life.

I caress
rivulets of grain and inlaid ponderings that pour
along the courses set out for them, unhindered by a sheen,
that is aloof – forbidden topical superficiality is not allowed.

I defiantly blow
sending streaming particles to dance to my tune,
sending sloughed off shredded memories to scatter
as they reminisce in the air, before the cold light of day
and realisation sinks them down to earth.

I smear
with my sticky fingers the crazy superficial glaze of the everyday –
its gloss and grandeur picked off by an intrusive sun drowning out
all that is vulnerable – it reminds me of the heartbreak behind real
wood and the heartbreak of real life.

 

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Author: Anita Lubesh

I write poetry/prose/stories/short stories/verses for children/sketch/and have 6 chapters of a novel sitting there like that half eaten trifle in the fridge or bottle of Jack Daniels because something makes you afraid to eat it or drink... right now.. I am a proud Geordie from England's northern hemisphere and the beautiful city of Newcastle upon Tyne. I live with my lovely husband who came all the way from sunny California just for me, and my favourite animal, Bobble, our dog. I am a member of Greenpeace and Friends of the Earth and wish we could all do more, especially today, when such a lot is wrong.

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