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The whistler

“The Whistler”

Some say of the singer
He can really carry a tune
But the whistler, he is carried by the tunes.
On them, he depends.
Akin to birdsong, he utters unconsciously,
And without effort,
The warbling melodies.
They stave off sullenness.
They are linear, lonely, lyrical.
In company, or in solitude they flow.
A precision of the tongue and breath.
Not learned, but somehow innate.
Unwilling are some of his listeners.
Glowering glances they give.
Others are drawn,
staying close but feigning indifference.
Furtive but friendly.
Embarrassed by the spell.
Then there are those who openly lavish praise.
They ask for more, and tug their friends over.
The Whistler has unwittingly woven this spell,
And is surprised, abashed, taken aback.
Suddenly silenced.
The kind and blameless people look away.
Perhaps they know what they have asked of him.
Like one who would look over the shoulder of a painter
transfixed,
And say “Continue. Continue.”

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Lee Dunn View All

Lee Dunn has been writing since the age of 18, but found that work got in the way for the ensuing 48 years. In his home town of Toronto, Ontario, Canada, he reveled in his independence at an early age, and spent as much time as he could exploring the city’s Arts scene. He was introduced to poetry and prose by the works of two literary giants, namely J.R.R. Tolkien and J.W. Lennon and thence fell in love with the written word. His work includes poetry, short fiction, and personal essays, and ranges in theme from the surreal to the horrific, nostalgic, and themes on the human condition. He has been published on Spillwords.com, The Dark Poets Club, Journal of Undiscovered Poets, Crepe & Penn Literary magazine, and the Shelburne Free Press.

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