My Starbucks coworker said that

“If you were a mode of transportation,

You’d be a tugboat.”

At first I was confused.

All I could think of was a book I had

As a child,

Lost little red-and-white tugboat

Stuck up the river.

But when I went to haul out the garbage that night

I wondered if she might have a point.

Tugboat huffing, puffing, steaming, pulling,

Leading on a parade float of a cargo ship

The real powerhouse behind the whole operation

Maybe that is me,

Tugging others on with everything I do—

Maintaining my effortless camp-counselor persona

By singing Disney songs

And snarking at everything around me,

Chopping out roots all summer

With my muscles and huge personality—

When really

I feel quite small.