having lurked for months, straphanging for dear life in the bustle of my
commuter career, I now discover there are plans to close the line.
I wish to protest. You can't do this to me. I may not have bought a ticket
in months, but I still need you to exist.
I am so concerned I have even cleared my desk, tipped all my computer files
onto the settee, and written a poem.
Now see what you've done.......
----
Bloodmothers
The phone may never ring. I may be spared
two sleepless nights. An hour under the knife.
Too late. The sample's in the lab. I'm scared.
I don't need this. Not me, a mother, wife.
I could cry off. Say I was unprepared.
On holiday. In prison. Gone to Fife
to bungee jump the Tay. I never dared
sign up to risk my skin for someone's life.
Even with my own, I never thought
of all the years to come. The bond of blood.
The child as yet unborn who may be caught
by someone's reckless impulse to do good.
Two teaspoonfuls of ancestry apart,
heredity winds ropes about the heart.
Terri )O(
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