The Human Touch 2013 - University of Colorado Denver

Left Overs
William Reiquam, MD
I am a left over. Like lunch, left over from yesterday.
Like the wire wastebasket clutching the
plastic bag fi lled with trash, left overs.
Like the piece of cake still by the side of the plate,
left over.
Like those men over there in their wheelchairs,
left over.
We are extended into the world’s trash.
All I can expect of the day is some reassurance of my
will, what’s left of it.
No one notices; they all walk around me.
I slide into my solitude.
But – what happens when one needs a
pinch of help?
There is a thin layer of courage left, misdirected
more often than not, but remaining on the
top of my deep well of solitude.
I would like to fi nd a little miracle of friendship –
a hint of wonder, just something I
could think back on, if I remember to do it.
But for all its grief, I would risk a little intimacy.
If the doctor just yesterday had not
told me I would be blind soon, I would
have sensed no danger.
No Direction [Nikki Cimino]
But now, and by chance, I may fi nd some meaning,
and I need to; I could still be a whole person. I know it.
I cannot let myself be dragged down.
I cannot bear to be punished.
PG 130
PG 131