Dead skink on tissue paper in a small box

She held out her hand
Upon her palm a tiny lizard, a skink
A shining dark olive back – thin yellow strip along the sides
Iridescent blue-aqua beneath its chin
“It’s dead” said Petra as she held it aloft by the tail – and it was
I looked into its eye and saw right through to the verdant bush beyond
The tangled twigs and rocks – a land of nooks and tasty creatures
“Most likely where this lizard is now” I thought as I peered through the eyeless window
I remembered to breathe – brought myself back
The sounds of this world filling my ears as I returned
from reverie and soft melancholia
Into the light - the present

She made a small home for the lizard
A little box lined with tissue and care
The tiny claws catching still – a feeble anchor
it looked like it would dart away in a flash
but it already had
Discarding this garment long ago
a once animate husk
Beating and alive 
(GD @ Ness May 2012)

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