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Day and night, night and day

In the early morning,
I held you when you cried.
In time, you began the building of your world.
You knew important things,
like the bear went over the mountain,
and also that the Camptown racetrack was five miles long.

At bedtime, native drums could be heard
as I thumped out their rhythm on your back and sang a song that said
that down in the jungle you would live in a tent
and you wouldn’t pay money, you wouldn’t pay rent,
you wouldn’t even know the time. But you wouldn’t mind.
Every night you asked for more, and got mad if I shortened the verse.

I reached out with the blue of my covered fingers, and you took the proffered hand.

In the broad noon of the day, you had built well. Worldly connections.
True and false friends.
I saw you less, as you ranged further and further, looking for something that you thought was beyond your doorstep.

But, you were the first to appear if I was in peril.

In this evening, now, you see the faltering.
As in a certain prophecy, it seems you have found a purpose.
I reach out once more, with weakened hand.
The blue shows through.

Take me to that place where there is no time, but I won’t mind.

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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