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January 2013, vol 8, no 4

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Dawn Bruce

Shifting Light

I tie a bib under her neck and begin the long task of spooning strained vegetables into her mouth. She keeps batting it away and I become cross, snap at her, then feel guilty. At last the ordeal is over. As I wipe away the mush in her hair she gives me such a huge grin I have to laugh and kiss her. 'Mum, you know I love you,' I say. She beams up at me again and claps her hands.

wintry sunshine
a line of raindrops