DISCRETION

• My mother, cuddling her grandson, mused:
• “I wouldn’t like to bring up a child
• now, the way society’s going.”
• Had she forgotten that as soon as she knew
• she was carrying me, war was declared?
• What did her mother say to her,
• I wonder, in that uncertain autumn
• of 1939?


• Some traditions are better broken.
• As I look at my daughter holding her new
• son in her arms I say, “He’s lovely”,
• then stay my tongue: today I choose
• to keep my fears unspoken.

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