What we notice

It hurts my eyes she said
Propping up the book near me
A wordless request.
So I read to her
As the breeze rustles the leaves over our heads
As she chews on small, crumbled bits of cheddar
And tears off bits of bread.
Very European.

My stomach rumbles but I read on
The words tumbling easily off my tongue
Landing, bouncing on the blanket between us.
She feeds me a bit of cheese, then bread
Food I cannot hold with my hands
Then leans back, her face toward the afternoon sun
Her eyes closed in pain
Listening to my voice.

When others walk by they see our wheelchairs
Me paralyzed she with MS
Yet she hears my voice.
And I am fed by her hands.

This is what we notice about each other.

Copyright 2007 Ruth Harrigan