The end of the war brings rejoicing,
though some women working in factories and farms
are distressed to lose their jobs.
About eight million British women
win the right to vote, granted as if in thanks
for helping the country through a disaster.
But women still have plenty of rights to fight for. Soon after
Barbara and Gerald start a group supporting equality
and world peace, Barbara gives birth to a son.
Hertha kisses the baby’s toes, fingers, and nose,
whispers, Michael Ayrton Gould, what is hidden in you?
She listens to his heartbeat as she did with her own child,
never guessing her daughter
would run for a seat in Parliament.
Barbara gives campaign speeches, saying, My mother
is an excellent electrical engineer. She also taught me
it’s important to give sandwiches and socks to the needy.
But no one should have to knock on doors or beg.
I want to change laws so that no one is cold or hungry.
After Barbara loses the election, Hertha says,
I don’t know much about politics, but I know
it takes inventors many tries before they find success.
I’m glad some other women won seats, Barbara says.
Now men complain women’s hats get in their way.
The new legislators must walk
half a mile to a ladies’ room, but it’s a start.
Two years later Hertha, who’s been working
on a new kind of fan to help firefighters clear smoke
and advising bridge builders about underwater forces,
rents a house by the sea. She watches her grandson
while Barbara runs again for a seat in Parliament.
The shape of the shore has changed
since Hertha was last here.
She hikes up her skirt as the little boy runs
across the rippled sand into the sea. A wave knocks
him down. Michael shrieks and pushes himself back up.
The tops of waves move faster than the bottoms.
The unstable crest tumbles. Sand shifts underfoot.
Gulls ride on the winds. Pebbles roll over one another,
clatter and scrape back under waves.
Beauty is what can’t be caught.
Children fly kites to understand the wind,
pick up rocks to tell the earth’s time.
Hertha wades deeper, crouches, scoops up water,
which turns invisible in her hands.