In the waiting room I stare down at my worn shoes, holes in the fabric where a child's superhero sneakers might light up. Contrasting dirt brown against sterile white flooring, the picture is familiar and again I wonder if these feet will ever bring good news to someone like me in the future. I guess I should focus on my present, an exhausting litany of "how are you feeling?" and "is the medication working this time?" But what choice do I have but endure? A child with light up sneakers might be waiting for me on the other side.
About the Poet:
Connor Orrico is a student and amateur field recordist interested in global health, mental health, and how we make meaning from the stories we share with each other, themes which were recently explored in his publications in Headline Poetry & Press and Plum Tree Tavern.