The one thing that always comes up in conversation is my grandmother. I’m that type of dork, and totally unashamed. I feel like people who don’t know her are missing out, and I put a lot of my sense of self and confidence down to the maternal figures in my life.

I recently helped put together a small chapbook of poems for her. She was a scientist and started writing in her late 60’s. At 77 she had her first book of poems published called At Least the Duck Survived, and at 80, her second book published The Last to Leave. Now she just self publishes poems, and blogs at www.margaretclough.blogspot.com. Testament that with kindness and positivity you can live many lives.

AFTER FALLING OFF MY CHAIR AT A TEA PARTY.

(with apologies to Maya Angelou)

People ask me what my secret is

that makes folks stare at me.

I tell them:

It’s the bump on my head.

It’s the bruise on my nose.

It’s the hole in my stocking.

It’s the scrape on my knee.

I’ve stumbled and tumbled and fallen.

Fallen woman,

that’s me

– Margaret Clough