We, Residents.

We, Residents, We
We lives our lives in snatches

A stolen three minutes
In the front parking lot
With a husband, who is dropping off the car.

A quick picnic dinner with two
Young girls
Who miss their dad.
Working all night, at hospital.

We send silly, serious, sad, angry
Texts
To one another
And flirt with last Friday night's date
Between presentations
with our iPhones

Finding some way to slip off
Unnoticed
For those bi-weekly treatment sessions
Hoping no one finds out that we,
We too, are Patients.

We get grumpy.
Sometimes grumpier than the patients,
And forget there is a sun.
Till we neglect our work for ten minutes
To see the "outside" world
The dying light against the trees.

So it goes on,
Till we're done
With these, the harried years
And, so they say, step on
To bigger, brighter things.