Zoë Sîobhan Howarth-Lowe

 

 

 

The Toy

I had a toy fire-truck sent to me for Christmas,
the usual shiny red with a ladder on top.
I dressed a doll as a fireman
with a helmet made out of paper,
made him rescue the baby
stranded in the attic of my doll’s house.

I saw the heat reach out towards the paper hat,
curling the edges without touching,
and flames, snaking the bars of the baby’s cot.
Quickly the doll’s house became alive, spitting
and hissing, lighting up the room
better than any nightlight.

Best of all was the way the carpet colour changed
wherever a spark hit. The way flames would come
running towards me, greeting me, encircling me,
compelling the horrid pink carpet to flower into orange.

 

 

Zoë Sîobhan Howarth-Lowe is a Poet and Mum from Dukinfield. Her work has appeared in Magma, Curly Mind, Clear Poetry, Lakeview Journal, Interpreter’s House and The Lake. She also enjoys wargaming, painting models and scrapbooking.
 

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