Unnoticeable as the air, as out of sight,
as filling every space,
the in-betweens where nothing goes,
it was there.
The slight touch on the shoulder saying
you’re in this conversation
when all the world is behind you except
the space of yet to know.
The smile, the question, the not-assuming,
that isn’t there at work
or at home, or the checkout where your
worlds slide quietly past.
Wheels, when you might stand, removal
of one effort you know would
stretch these unexpected minutes, hours,
leave breath spare.
There, in the gap between black square plate,
the huge x-ray room and you,
precision arms and tracks, embracing metal
with reassuring smile.
The kneeling, to explain from not-above
accepting understanding,
taking blood, listening for crackles, telling
what to expect.
And not a moment’s go-away, you’re done,
leaving with connection
though each had done just what they do
day and again.
In each look, listen, touch, that which makes us
what we are at best
that connects and makes, affirms—that life
is not just this.
2013 © Andie Davidson
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