petermccluskey

The Art of Recognising Invisible People

Here comes a lady
She hasn’t talked to anyone in weeks
Here she comes
Her eyes flickering up and down
Moving from my eyes to her shoes.

Here comes a lady
I hold her gaze for a moment
My eyes say, “Hello, how are you?”
She brightens
Her eyes say, “No one ever sees me.”

Here comes a lady
She’s about to pass by
“Have a nice day,” my eyes say.
A wisp of a smile
“Thank you,” she says, her eyes shining.