Russian Doll


Colour splashed paint, clothes for each
in turn and buffeted by warm, walls that stem a yearn
to be plucked out, set apart but still belong
behind pacified aprons, a mother’s song.

Solitary in righteous row, dwarfed mirrors
carry presence sowed, and radiated in each rounded urn,
layers of humanity exposed in choral throng,
out from the closets of a mother’s song.



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.

2 thoughts on “Russian Doll”

  1. This reminded me of the old Russian lady I use to visit who was home bound. As a kid I use to deliver food that an old Italian woman made for her friends in the neighborhood. I called her grandma rose. Her house was filled with so many bright colors and I loved her accent. This poem brought a fond memory back, thank you 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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