we gathered that night, impromptu.
music was rumoured.
by the bush, secluded.
a small fire, falling to embers.
things brought were guitars, harps, a fiddle, a beatbox.
and a voice or three.
over the hum of the generator,
we plugged in and played.
in my given spot, i stayed.
faces filtered in.
some i knew.
there was Shy Sandy, who asked if she could play.
twelve bar blues on her harp,
and she was transfigured.
we were joyful, and egged her on.
a man who was eighty came into the glow with his fiddle,
etched into the night’s tableau.
a fellowship, more than fleeting.
we who played and sang
smiled brightly at one another, with a knowing.
what can one love, more than this?
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.