Reverse Transcription

With my mouth covered,
half my face
is lost,
unknown.
The lines around my mouth,
indicating a polite
or genuine smile,
are disguised
by light blue,
creased lines.

I lose definition.
Only my eyes remain.

A deaf man panics,
as I repeat the sweep
of my hand
over his forehead.
My lips are not visible
to read.

An expectant mother arrives
scheduled for
induced labor,
holding
an empty car seat.

An exception is made
for end of life.
A brother and sister
prepare
to see their father
for the last time.

A child cannot enter
to use the restroom,
cries outside with balled up hands
pressing into eyelid sockets.

An older man wishes
for my good health.

A friend collects belongings,
does not recognize me,
at first.

A fellow worker looks upward,
from her short stature,
searching
for an answer
to placate her fear.

I look into her eyes,
offer only
a temperature reading.

Elizabeth Tomanio is a physical therapist who is passionate about helping people and writing poetry. When she is not researching effective and innovative treatment methods for her patients, she is searching for answers, to understand the world better and herself in it, through writing.