"Turning Poison into Medicine"
When I was young, my mother and I would ride the ferry to Seattle a lot. I’d been born near there and we had friends to visit. A way to get over being back in Bummertown. A small escape.
I remember the car decks and how hard it was to make the climb from below, all the way up to the top. Tiny toddler legs stretching up and bending too far below the step, mother’s hand holding mine as I held the rail. I wanted to do it all myself but her hand was so warm as it steadied me.
I recall the gulls flying overhead as we stood out above the waves. They would shriek at us for some sort of offering. We often brought bread, others would fling French fries.
We rarely had the money for such delicacies. I envied those gulls.
This poem is part of my book Pain Eater, available on Amazon.