I walked with Clarice today.
She wore a skirt with accordion pleats,
A pink angora sweater,
and real pearls.
Her black shoes had round toes and straps.
Like a doll’s.
Her hair in Shirley Temple ringlets.
They bounced when she skipped,
and she did, twice.
We didn’t hold hands.
I wasn’t sure if she would permit it today.
There is a park bench by the beach.
We sat, and she was prim, like a lady.
Her eyes were on the whitecaps rolling in.
She patted my hand and said
They took her away this morning. My mother.
I said a wishing word last night, and she wouldn’t sleep.
You are my friend, David, aren’t you?
In all of this crimson kingdom,
you’re the only one who can come with me.
I know you see it. The path.
Can you keep me safe? These are mother’s pearls.
I must not say any more words. Will you come?
And I am in fear now.
I know her path. But, to tread it?
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.