(This was written as a response to a visual prompt offered by the substack collective Saccharum. To get the full visual, and sonic experience see Seen/Unseen )

The eyes are ever present
Watching for movement in the garden

A woman in a red dress dances flamenco
To an unheard beat
Just the motion of clapping

The eyes follow her steps and record them
But not the song she is singing

“L’amour est un oiseau”

A dangerous bird
Finch in the willow
Jumps from branch to branch
Climbs the gutter in search of water on a hot day

The eyes record each step
Pattern recognition is prediction
And they have already convicted the innocent
but never heard the conversation

Red light, Dark night
The eyes record which way you turn
They know where you have been
Where you are headed
Where you bury the bodies

But they don’t know why
Or the song you were humming