we both know that

It was a problem in comic books: 

drawing an invisible man. 

They'd solve it with a dotted line 

that no one but us could see, 

 

us with our snub noses pressed to the paper, 

the invisible glass between us and the place 

where invisible men can exist. 

 

That's who is waiting for me: 

an invisible man 

defined by a dotted line: 

 

the shape of an absence 

in your place at the table, 

sitting across from me, 

eating toast and eggs as usual 

or walking ahead up the drive, 

a rustling of the fallen leaves, 

a slight thickening of the air. 

 

It's you in the future, 

we both know that. 

You'll be here but not here, 

a muscle memory, like hanging a hat 

on a hook that's not there any longer. 

 

[Margaret Atwood {1939- } 'Invisible Man' from Dearly]