Hour 17, Mystified

I peer over the shoulders
of strangers, a tourist
in my own body.

Am I here?
I ask myself,
nonexistent until noticed.

No one turns back,
meets my gaze,
and sheepishly glances away.

Their attention is focused
forward, to a future
misted and glazed
into indistinctness,
a mesmerizing smear of colors,
pierced at times
by muted headlights
swimming toward me
and veering away,

2 thoughts on “Hour 17, Mystified

  1. My dear friend! I hope your travels are going safely. It was lovely to see that you were able to participate for a little while. I started late this time out (I wasn’t going to participate but a person just can’t let the marathon happen without needing to be in..right?) so I didn’t get a chance to join the Some Poets group.

    This piece is, I would have to admit, my favorite piece of yours: ” a tourist in my own body,” is only one of the many pieces of this poem that made me hold my breath. I feel that these days, so much.

    The rest of the images suggest it is about someone who is spirit now but it feels, too, like someone who is disassociated from the physical world, even though they are “alive.”

    Thank you for this. I have missed your words.

    Safe travels, my friend. I will be thinking of you and sending you lots of love to keep everyone safe.

    1. Thank you so much for this! You always know just what to say. I’ve missed you and your words as well. The poem was very much about disassociation, as it’s how I’ve felt for the last year. Being in a limbo situation and not knowing what our next steps should be nor how to get there has been more than a little difficult. Now that we’re finally on our way home, I’m feeling a bit more peace. Though I couldn’t do the whole marathon, I had to at least participate as much as possible. Thank you so much for reaching out, and lots of love to you as well.

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