Suffragette

Suffragette

Flop-winged lapwings peeweep peeweep above the plough;

She stares at the arum, pale-green spathe curving round

its white spiky inflorescence, spearing blue sky;

Promise shines in the sunlight and in the clay pores

Where fresh blades of barley slice through the faint furrows;

Her eye like a sleek hawk skims the crests of the trees;

The light transfigures space in the tree-tunnelled lane;

The gold bright-boled poplars vibrate her artist’s eye;

Shrill song from the thicket and loud laughing voices

Make a mingled chime of joy and lighten their hearts;

As the sun goes down the girls speak of their idols:

One girl mentions Eminem and Pete Doherty,

Another JK Rowling. A long list unfurls.

As her mind paints the dropping sun, she surprises them:

‘My suffragette great-gran was hit by cops on horses;

Male medical students threw muck and stones at her

And shouted in her face that she needed raping’;

What seemed a long lost past lights a moral present;

Her proud voice remembering courage plumbs their souls.