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The tree hugger

Old Man Maple
Is pushing a hundred, we think.
Each spring and fall, he gives his all.
Makes emerald hall,
Speckled sun.
Sighs with the whim of the wind.
To one who lays beneath his tower,
Awaiting his star’s communion,
Such things are shown!
Layers of focus, light on dark.
Rustles of sound.
An overture to the divine.

Such whimsy is despised by some,
Pointing to broken branches,
Dented roofs, clogged eaves,
Upset neighbors.

Me?  I do the repairs
And wait
For next summer’s hammock time.

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, The Dark Poets Club, Journal of Undiscovered Poets, Crepe & Penn Literary magazine, and the Shelburne Free Press.

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