How Strong the Woman -Mike Steeden

How strong the woman, how frail the man

He chanced upon her dressing
She had got so far as
tights and knicker elastic allowed
Naught else

As is her way
A private conference
With the unborn babe in her belly
Telling him to
Get his act together
And show up or fuck off

She turns about face
‘Oh it’s you’
He beams
Tells her just how wonderful she looks
‘No I don’t, I look ridiculous’
She disagrees
For once she was wrong

At the birth
She spat profanities
As if possessed

It seemed like an age yet
She got there in the end

Helpless and hopeless
He takes of his leave
For just a minute or two
Glorious nicotine and salty tears
In the concrete jungle outside
Under a stoned moon

Composure partially restored
He returns

The child at her breast now
He kisses them both
Her first

All her life
She had had an errant ghost
who followed her every move
His name, just ‘G’
Now she had her boy child
Named him ‘G’
She never did
See her ghost again

She cures his melancholy
Most times
The only one who ever could

Should he go the way of all flesh
This very instant
Then let it be said
He has known love
He has known devotion
That he was
Quite the luckiest fellow

Yet he remains in awe
Even now
How strong the woman
How frail the man

I like Mike. If you’d like to see more of what i like about Mike, click here, right?: https://mikesteeden.wordpress.com/

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