Literary Mama writing about the many faces of motherhood
Soloing at Caley

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I was thirty: gibbous, flushed,
gracious belly spreading the easy news.

They hadn't seen me the day before:
free-climbing ballerina out of the music box,

feet in sandals–tightened, just in case–
fingers gift-wrapping crag
-fast quartz I dared not resist.

And the feet were fine,
furtling dimples and curves,
rock giving way to both of us.


Viv Ring is a writer of poetry and one novel, a mother of two adult children, has worked with vulnerable young people and families and is a climber. This combination has been both joyous and frustrating and informs much of her writing.


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