Friday, June 10, 2016

Out Of Sight

Andrew Wyeth

I can't see you clear enough
to see you were once like me. All I can see
is a steel cage doing service as a second set of legs,
sagging, long nippled breasts
milked dry and shapeless,
and a pair of spectacles dangling on a chain.
False teeth, dress stained; no, I can't see, if I look away,
that you were once like me; I put you away
and keep you
out of sight and out of mind.

For Margaret's prompt at Real Toads

10 comments:

Sherry Blue Sky said...

You have nailed it, as you exactly do: how young people forget old people were once like them. A fact that is uncomfortable to contemplate. Fantastic, Kelli.

Kerry O'Connor said...

It is so hard to face one's own aging, and seeing it I another can be a moment of enlightenment and fear. i think you conveyed all this and more so very well, indeed, with visual and emotional descriptions.

Buddah Moskowitz said...

It is both unsettling and oddly comforting to hear my long-deceased father's voice come out of my mouth as I get older. Loved your poem.

blueoran said...

Welcome to the reveal.

brudberg said...

I think that decay the young ones shun is exactly like that.. Maybe that's why it's even hard to listen.

telltaletherapy said...

sensational and succinct - we can only relate to the old when we see pictures of their youth and I no longer recognise that girl!

kaykuala said...

It gets frightening to think of how one looks when age 'caught on' and nothing can be done to give a different picture.


Hank

Fireblossom said...

It's the chain for the eyeglasses that announces decrepitude more than any other sign! It's like idiot mittens for the myopic!

Bekkie Sanchez said...

Don't we all hide when the things that were once lovely had faded? A formidable write!

Susie Clevenger said...

How sad it is we pack away what we don't want to see. How quickly I am racing toward someone's trunk.