The unfinished story of a woman and her pram

A mother walks her pram
Bound in warm black layers of polyester coat
Struggling up the mud path
In the middle of nowhere.

At least i assume she's the mother
How am i to know from the window of the train
In fact the pram may be empty
The emotional weight of a broken childhood.

Perhaps this darkly coloured pram is a meer projection
Of a child running from dysfunctionallity.
The bird cage with the brass lock.

A mother of sympathetic mahogany
Marred with many rings of experience
Disconnecting her from the plasticine palace of her daughters ambition.

The gluttonous green grass
Defying the harbinger clouds threatening release
Ah yes release!

Her face is veiled by a thick arch of hueless fur
I imagine chemtrails spoiling her perfect pale cheeks
Dried streaks of raw recently released emotion.

The road to nowhere
Destination? unnecessary
Purpose unclear
Motivation, known