Mother’s Day with ironing and sardines

Turned down an invitation from my daughters 
in favour of the porch in autumn sunshine, time

alone. Read about eclipses of the sun, paths 
of totality and how, at any given time, forty saros series 

are underway on Earth, each unfolding to a crawling pitch-black
stripe of bat confusion, restive roosting birds. Also, how a Mars-

sized body known as Theia smashed into our baby planet, hence
the moon. Huh. I had not known of Theia till today. Sardines

on toast for lunch, the pages oiled. Licked my fingers, 
washed them, wrestled with the board. Ironing slowly 

near the window, crisp yellow leaves beyond the pane, 
pressed sunlight into pillowslips for overnight release.

How any series set in motion must advance. How much, 
at any given time, I love – I love! – those girls.

Sue Wootton

Sue Wootton is a poet and fiction writer whose publications include the Ockham New Zealand Book Award longlisted novel Strip and Ockham New Zealand Book award poetry finalist The Yield. In 2023 she travelled to Menton, France as the 50^th New Zealand writer to hold the Katherine Mansfield Menton Fellowship. Sue lives in Ōtepoti Dunedin where she works as publisher at Otago University Press. Her website is suewootton.com