“A Young Mother” by Andrew Merton

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(1950)

To escape the tangle
she becomes her sewing needle

plunging through the fabric
of her sea blue blouse.

Again and again
she dives and surfaces,

a skipping stone,
a cormorant,

a marlin
at play in the frozen mists

of the North Atlantic.
Such is her joy

that for minutes, months,
whole seasons at a time,

she is able to forget
the line through her tale.

Andrew Merton,
Evidence that We Are Descended from Chairs
Accents Publishing

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