The woman at the start of a new life,

room full of stuff for another home,

the thrill of change, unaware of her child,

on the rim of shock, and still by the door,

waiting for her mother to quieten,

to hear her news, the excitement of red,

and what it could mean. A tang of iron.

No brother to eclipse or father to add.

She took her daughter’s hand in her own,

removed a strand of gold from a face

flushed in the glow of a full moon:

time to step forward out of the shade.

The girl, overjoyed, sat on the bed,

I’m so happy, Mam, we’re talking, she said.

© Prizwinner in the 2011 Phizzfest Poetry Award