Unseen

I no longer need to hide in
doorways and shadows –
I’m one of the unseen.
I’m a tatty pigeon
faltering on feathers
of memories. I’m a
twisted old silver birch, invisible
in moonlight. I’m a river
with no audible ripple,
grown lumpen and tufty,
dried to a trickle
and a tangle of reeds.
I once felt magnificent;
now I’m insignificant.

Kim M. Russell, 5th February 2019

Image result for paintings and artwork of old women
Old Woman by Gustav Klimt

My response to dVerse Poets Pub Poetics: Invisible, also linked to Imaginary Garden with Real Toads Tuesday Platform

Merril is our host this week, talking about invisibility. She says that there are things that our naked eyes cannot see—light rays, bacteria, faraway planets—and things we do not see because we don’t look up or down or around, such as the homeless or the people who clean houses, offices, and streets. She also mentions the paranormal: ghosts, spirits, poltergeists, and all the things we may sense but not see; and fictional invisibility.

Merril would like to know what we would do if we were invisible and asks us to write a poem in any form that references invisible or invisibility.

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69 thoughts on “Unseen

  1. The part about the river reminds me of a branch of a nearby river. When I was a child, it was big enough to launch our small motor boat into, but now it is filled with cattails and muck. Nobody is throwing fishing lines into it and leaving hooks on the shore anymore, so in that sense it’s a good thing. I really like your poem.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. We are what we believe ourselves to be, but of course, social attitudes play a big part. If society honoured age as an achievement, we would feel differently about aging. No doubt however, this world is our choice and our karma.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I was moved by this prompt to write in the same direction Kim, aging. I loved the way you reached into nature to pull your visuals. They were wonderful. I especially liked the rippleless river. We dtill are magnificent Kim, never reliquish your crown. The patina is well earned! 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  4. such despair at being insignificant. as our bodies age we forget the mind is still sharp, in that lies the greatest despair for things we are yet to do. graphic and melancholy Kim, but it connected with the word invisible perfectly

    Liked by 1 person

  5. A beautiful poem about aging, Kim. I think we sometimes feel invisible as we move through our different life stages. Youth is so vibrant, so colorful and it dances with us, uplifts us through much of our life.In our 20’s when we are still beautiful and young, there’s the angst of ‘I can’t believe I’ll be 30 soon.’ And as we age the parchment paper skin, the fading grey hair, the aches and pains the very shrinking of our stature – this is the slow waltz of aging and we feel our own mortality more with every passing day. I LOVE the ‘tatty pigeon’ line. Brilliant.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. I love your tatty pigeon…..it reminds me of my mum, one time when dad was away she sat there lamenting that this was her life in two carrier bags, she had been tidying those cupboards, the ones with the tattered memories, an old valentines card, a dog-eared calendar, a photo faded by the sunshine and she was so aware that when she was gone all these things that had held meaning to her would be meaningless to everyone else. She was your tatty old pigeon. Now I am fast becoming the tatty old pigeon.

    Liked by 1 person

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