Seen and Unseen by Jane Blanchard

Seen and Unseen
. . . . .Saint Simon’s Island

Wind from the east drives cloud by cloud toward shore—
enormous cotton balls appear to swipe
the too-blue summer sky—their shadows turn
the ocean from dull gray to duller tan.

The tide continues getting higher while
wind from the east drives cloud by cloud toward shore—
the sandbar is submerged—pelicans
routinely glide, then dive-bomb schools of fish.

Swimmers return to help sunbathers move
all chairs and towels out of danger as
wind from the east drives cloud by cloud toward shore—
remaining beverages are soon consumed.

Beyond the seawall stand palmettos, fronds
waving—above them flies a dragon, tail
wiggling, string held by someone not in view—
wind from the east drives cloud by cloud toward shore.

by Jane Blanchard

Editor’s Note: This viator poem features a refrain that threads through the narrative, placing the reader firmly within the leisurely pace of Saint Simon’s island.