She hurriedly tugged on her shoes
And walked into the rain
Ineffectively covering her head with arms
The dark night making it seem less vain.
The car around the corner
Now had the blinkers on
She briskly made her way to it,
Getting in, but post a hesitant stall.
Her shivering wrinkled hands –
They were moist and swollen
Her eyes struggling with them
And bringing from her coat,
A packet into the open.
She handed this to the men
They had had a history of trade
They were the loyal buyers
Who first turned the pusher into a rich maid.
And yet she had no idea when the object made a haven in her son’s blood,
She was busy finding users when the infection made him fall with a huge thud.
It was a necessity now
To sell, to earn, to pay for the meds
The smoothness of the rise
And to the fall – that’s where it led.