Through the weeping household stalked a small black cat—just past kittenhood, and more gamine than gangly. She darted past the skirts of a grieving wife as the woman buried her face in a ... [+]
Sarah Barr writes poetry and fiction and lives in Dorset, UK. She appears in "The Best New British and Irish Poets 2019-2021". Her poetry pamphlet "January" was published in 2022 and her story collection, "Night Zoo", in 2022. "Getting Her Daughter Ready" is in Short Circuit #10, Short Édition's quarterly review.
She ties on her daughter's wings made not
of wax, leather, eagle feathers, but of
paper, ribbon, glue and glitter. Her
daughter flaps her arms and
pretends to be bird, fairy,
angel. She keeps
dancing. Her
mother says,
"Stand still," as she
combs out plaits, strokes
hair into shape, clips on stars,
a halo, thinks of magic. She looks
at her daughter's sprung feet, says, "Fly,
sweetheart. Then walk, strong on the earth."
of wax, leather, eagle feathers, but of
paper, ribbon, glue and glitter. Her
daughter flaps her arms and
pretends to be bird, fairy,
angel. She keeps
dancing. Her
mother says,
"Stand still," as she
combs out plaits, strokes
hair into shape, clips on stars,
a halo, thinks of magic. She looks
at her daughter's sprung feet, says, "Fly,
sweetheart. Then walk, strong on the earth."