Four souls sit cramped with little room,
her arms ache as she pulls each stroke,
the waves swell and grey skies loom,
as her husband complains about the boat.
Her child is sat safely between her feet,
she fights the current, wind and rain.
Her sleeping dog is curled up by her seat,
as her husband whinges of cold and pain.
"Won't you help?" she asks irate,
her voice as steady as each stroke.
He sighs and shifts about his weight,
nearly tipping over the boat.
The water seeps between the boards,
she bails it out with her sore hands,
while he sits there, sighing and hoards
the space while making demands.
"Here," she says, "take this lifevest,
it is the only one we own."
He grabs it quickly without protest,
still wearing his entitled frown.
Her arms are sore, her back aches,
but forward still she toils,
until his complaints crash final waves
as her blood silently boils.
Fuelled by frustration, her spirit strong,
she rows towards the distant shore,
"This weight I've carried far too long,
and I cannot take it anymore."
"The boat's too small," she simply says,
"This load alone is too much to bear."
Her choice is made in the open sea
and she leaves him floating there.
With her child and loyal dog on board
the determined woman pressed on,
and rowed towards the shore
and onwards towards the warmth of home.
©️Lizzie Bevis