Plant Blindness

This morning I woke up in the dark.
With pain in my stomach and the voice of the radio newsreader.
Yet the day felt clean. Birds sang along the railway track.

At Brussels Central Station I saw a beggar with a bloodstained face
who no one seemed to see. I asked if I could help. I couldn’t.
Even though I know all about being invisible.

Later, a woman standing in front of me
at the red light fainted, falling into my arms.
She, too, refused my help.

Tonight, in this room where the walls
are creeping up on me
between houseplants on soggy saucers

I wonder how even people
you think you know all too well
look different from day to day.

Plant Blindness was first published by ONE ART POETRY.