Looking Back

I never touched her.

Not really.

I held her hand

and stroked her blue-veined fingers.

I patted her shoulder

and pulled the gown up around her neck.

But I never touched her.

Not really.

I massaged her arms

and tucked the blankets under her legs.

When she cried in pain

and called for someone, anyone to help,

I never touched her.

Not really.

When tears poured down her cheeks

and tremors shook her skeletal frame,

When she struggled to breathe

and begged for water to moisten her lips,

I never touched her.

Not really.

I never looked into her eyes

or kissed her wrinkled cheek.

I should have held her tightly

and chased away her hallucinations.

I never touched her.

Not really.

When she truly needed a friend

and called for someone, anyone to be near,

When she breathed her last breath

and crossed over to God’s side,

I never touched her.

Not really.

Remove My Cloak

I am the sole of your shoe,

The dirt that you spit upon,

And the excrement of fish

That sinks into the silt

Quickly becoming invisible.

 

I am the one who sits in the

Last seat, in the last row,

Who never says a word or joins

A group or makes any sound,

Trying to be invisible.

 

I am the one that you never see,

Even when you brush against

My back or shoulder in a crowd,

The one that you never grace with

A smile, for I am invisible.

 

I yearn to have a friend of my own,

Someone who shares secrets with me,

Holds my hand, carries my books,

Asks for my phone number so that

I will no longer be invisible.

 

I am tired of sitting alone, day after day,

Munching on my cardboard lunch

While others around me joke and speak

Of adventures of which I will never know,

For I remain invisible.

 

I ask for your attention, your time,

Which you so willingly give to your

Chosen few, the “in crowd”, those that

Raise your status, your time card, but

Not me, for I am invisible.

 

I beg you to stop just once and ask

My name, to hold the door and let me

Enter first, to invite me to join your group

For lunch, or to be my partner, to wipe away

My cloak of invisibility

 

So that I may be seen for who I am,

A child of God

A blessed soul

A friend in waiting.