She never did like to be told:

No.

 

And so, she drove­­

Through the dust and the su­nshine,

The figures, the truth

Flying behind her

Caught in the slipstream,

Eventually trampled.

 

I’ll give you, ‘A two per cent chance’,

And she spat the words

Like chewing gum.

 

In an outback town

She stopped.

Just briefly, fingers clenched

The steering wheel,

Knuckles strained and white.

 

In the pub,

She found men.

 

Her eyes

Spoke for her lips.

And she told them,

I don’t need to know your name.

 

Afterwards, she ached

With the knowledge

That her determination

 

Meant nothing

Nothing,

 

As she waited for

A

Second

Blue

Line.

 

 

With her knees and hands

Pressed hard against

the cool white tiles,

She spoke to the bathroom floor,

‘Why does this ordinary

miracle evade me?’