By R. Todd Fredrickson
-her and him-
Born of a quiet nature
they called me shy.
I know now
I was simply trying to stay out of the fire,
I am five,
maybe six, nobody seems to recall
Pictures from then depict eyes of ghosts.
like the removal of a scab from a heel
when taking off a sock.
There is pain,
but it’s unclear why.
During rare visits with her
I feel like a stranger,
but things seem normal for them
When the visit is over
my brother and I are picked up by him,
the car smells like stale booze
and his eyes are filled with rage.
He is angry because we waved
to our other family,
which includes her
I go hungry that night
because the half empty bottle of something
has coaxed him to sleep,
and I had learned by then
not to poke the bear.
About The Author
R. Todd Fredrickson is a northwest author living in Snohomish County, Washington. For more information follow him on twitter at: