By: Mike Seid
On the Hero’s Journey
By then my mother could no longer walk
or talk but also had let go her shame
and so she let us wheel her down the block
to shop that market where they'd known her name.
When Steve the checkout guy beheld her there
cartoonishly so shriveled in her chair
he cracked and wailed Roberta how unfair
then bought her violets gifting them with care.
I watched a film alone the other night
that had a star who was this juggernaut.
He faced down every killer in a fight
and didn’t lose a step when he got shot.
I had popcorn and sodas at my side.
My mother had a grocery man who cried.
The Son
There may yet come that day you can forgive
your father making you what you’ve become.
He too as you got forged to learn to live
by error by trial by wants that turned him numb.
Your mother will not call out from the grave.
All that she said is all that she will say
and though she yearned to bottle you to save
some drifting fulgent spark there was no way.
Today at Coffee Bean I had to choose
which bag of beans to buy to brew at home.
I stood for near an hour in my shoes
then headed back to drink two cups alone.
It’s said that coffee grounds can read your fate.
There’s things I’d ask my folks but it’s too late.
Mike Seid grew up in Los Angeles and earned a degree in Classics from Harvard. He currently resides in Barbados.