First time I sat on that green today....since..

I heard you before I saw you, screaming your slurred profanities,
I called the dog in a whisper, while scooping up the baby
moving slowly, bent low, fearful and shush shushing. 

''Oh please dog, stay still''
hands shaking as I attach the lead,
mind and eyes panic,
darting, from this green hill 
to the promenade.

But you see us, 
see us before we're out of sight
I pretend not to hear you shout, 
but the dog pulls, baby cries and
both are facing you.
Heart heavy, I'm forced to turn, and
notice your head and face badly bloodied,
the front wheel of your bike buckled. 
And you scream how I am to blame for the bad brakes.
My fault too that you came down the hill, 
at speed,
into an oncoming car.

Truth is, the drugs and alcohol played their part in this, 
your drama.

I watch as you hold up a can of beer
like a prized possession, and
I am dumbfounded, 
your stance defiant, it speaks volumes of
your addiction led survival instincts 
that dictate, 
''f**k the bike, my body, my head, 
but  hey, look, I saved the ale''

And I help you home and clean you up......again, 

all the while, telling myself this is the last time, 
the last time,
back and forth
as I comfort myself 
rocking the baby.

Reviews

[Frank James Davis]

This lyrical account is unpleasant to read--but, as a piece of work, easy to admire.
You've been extremely effective, victoria, at portraying the intense emotion that propels this (hopefully, fictional) slice-of-life.
Stunning offering, fair poetess.

[JustLorry]

and the rocking is her comfort blanket, protection from reality, that will be sadly, comforting again. a slice of the reality for some, we all shield ourselves from, turning away, hiding. Beautifully captured Victoria