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a failure of foresight

Don’t kill yourself, (they said),
when he went out to do the walkway
in the dark.
One upstairs, with Netflix on the headphones.
The other snoring in her pillow chair.
Most of the neighbourhood in for the night.
The odd car, trucking bags of groceries
or kids to piano lessons.
So no one found him, behind the boxwood hedge,
until the movie credits rolled
and the sleeper woke with an itchy premonition.

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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