Truesight

a weed pushing through the pavement
the nuts and bolts on the wheel of a car
the vein in your neck with its unsteady rhythm
strangers’s knees spidered with surgery scars

a bookshelf creaking under the weight of words
a pigeon pecking past, inflicting insect doom
a sweater covered in the hair of a cat
neon lights blinking half-on at noon

because all of these things had form and a purpose
they all seemed a form of beautiful to you

perhaps to truly see things
is to see that they are beautiful and true

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

I’m really trying to catch up here… Day 13’s prompt for NaPoWriMo asked us to write a spooky poem. The closest I got to a spooky poem was this – so, uh, not that spooky! The only connection I’ve made to spooks is with the title. Kyle and I binge-watched the second season of Stranger Things this past weekend, and in it, the kids make reference to Will having “truesight”. This Dungeons & Dragons term refers to someone with the ability to: “see in normal and magical darkness, see invisible creatures and objects, automatically detect visual illusions […], and perceive the original form of a shapechanger or a creature that is transformed by magic. Furthermore, the creature can see into the Ethereal Plane.” So I used my poetic license to link the idea of spooky ‘truesight’ with the call to truly see things. It’s a stretch, but hey 😉

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