a spectator sees unseen things
like knowing where new trees grow
an accounting for branches ends
or where the roots spread their bends
a dewdrop hides in gripped low grass
a spectator sees unseen things
a rocky wall with drooping sides
pours raindrops into river tides
seawater makes a wet story
of the stone as small as a speck
a spectator sees unseen things
secreted bugs that have no wings
to round the remnants of this song
a sinking boat that leaks along
a lulling splat of sea-sprayed rings
a spectator sees unseen things
About the Author
Eileen P. Kennedy’s Banshees (Flutter Press, 2015) was nominated for a Pushcart Prize and won Second Prize in Poetry from the Wordwrite Book Awards. Touch My Head Softly (Finishing Line Press, 2021) was a finalist for the International Book Awards in General Poetry. She lives in Amherst, MA with the ghost of Emily Dickinson. More at EileenPKennedy.com.
