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.)