Steven Timothy – A domestic


A domestic

By Steven Timothy

She walks on edge, pushing a pram, rattling rear wheel.
Broken, it is as her.
A quivering hand. A blistering cold, she continues.
Not to be hugged, nor to be free.
It is he who decides, with a stern hand.
Choice is his but today hers. Struggling on against her nerves.
The bottle tumbles to the road, her dream slowly corrodes.
It’s him, it’s him ‘look it’s dada, it’s dada.
She walks on edge pushing a pram.
Rattling rear wheel, broken, it is as her.

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One Response to Steven Timothy – A domestic

  1. How do I send it for consideration for the Advertiser?

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