Patina

Patina

Bathed in summer’s gold and blue she was a sea-child

who couldn’t swim.

A pattern really, a tug between risk and fear,

it followed her to school.

A blue-blazered rebel

in the grounds of the convent.

Big talk, in the grand, grey silence.

She married young in a crush of crimson,

and saw it all fall apart.

She left with the baby, and a Eurythmics CD,

to the sturdy drumbeat,

“Watch me walking, out the door”.

But inside, she was tiptoeing through the silvery shards

of an uncertain future.

All bravado until the courage kicked in.