Silver Sterlings

Glistens, silver finish
shimmering through the windows of a mysterious mirrored wall.

Touch, the feeling of
a smooth snake slithering and sliding through the palms of my hands,
the sensation of pure coldness.

Shiny, sparkling
in the summer showers, its reflection printed on the tinted window.

Passed,
down through the bloodstreams of aging ancestry to its soul owner
travelling to the heavens.

Lifeless,
standing still in another dark realm lined with precise wood work. Desperate.
Hogging the sights of other objects.

Departed, where
the Punga trees dwell from a green landscape to a busy city world over two thousand kilometres away.

Footlike,
small enough to home a pixie, a new life given to this little sterling silver shoe.