Mother May by Anicca Main
Awake to heavily pounding trains.
Pass my window, shake my spine.
Split with fluttering light of day
my head and take me down the stairs
to where my daughter taps and talks.
light and flighty.
Lost and half asleep I wander
through the morning and the morning and the morning
waiting for some break to tell me
that I’ve made it,
that I’m grand
and not some ordinary laggard
milk-cow in a swarm of bees.
Anicca is an Australian emerging writer, who has worked at Universities for the past 10 years to support her addictions to books and horses. She has a masters in creative writing and has work published in Islet, The Sleepers Almanac and a range of Equestrian magazines.
She spends her spare time with her daughter, dogs and horses and drinking far too much tea.
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