She’s in possession!
Shouts her commentators
Seventy minutes gone
Ten to go
Of a big rugby game
The opposition
Are edging ahead
Suddenly
The maul tide turns
A great shift of energy
inside the pile of men
And the ball
Is turned over
And the opposing team has it
And with it
They break.
(A very male perspective
Of the birthday woman
Who’s starkers single -
Not even the faintest wave
Of a man on the horizon.
She needs the pain;
Wants to know it,
Willing to risk
Post-natal whatever
As a forty candle salute -
In the absence of a child’s
Tip-toed effusion
In which lungs contract
To two sun-dried shrivels -
Allows an adult’s
Laboured breath
To breathe a wish free.)
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