Mary’s joy

Mary’s joy

For the first time
I can walk with pride.

At home
too many people turn their backs,
whisper behind their hands,
gossip my shame in their doorways
and pull their children to safety
for fear of contamination.

But here –
here I can cast aside the cloak
designed to conceal,
but fooling no one.

Here I may stroke the swelling
of the child within me,
smoothing my dress
over my belly,
watching the fabric
curve around the shape
of the promise that is to come.

Here I may wait...

Continues

©Marjorie Dobson