No. 8 Poem for International Women’s Day 2015

 Back at Yer

I returned home

My daughter bought me Fat Black Poems

In purple Virago

Which I read on the toilet

And left by my pillow

Then when she bled I punched the air

And a million dust particles became stars.

I placed a solitary red stem rose

Into a vase of clearest water

And stood it on her window- sill

To face the moon.

In the fridge I’d hidden two Mars Bars.

We ate and danced to Toploader

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