In this year of China’s moon,
there ends a life too soon.
On the cliff’s outcropping I stand,
not yet daring the mile-down view.
I wait for the scene seekers to disperse,
then pin this sorry note to the grappling tree.
You see, ah…
I cannot shake them.
Like brain bees they buzz.
Dark stories they tell, without end.
All help seemed too busy with life.
Now, I will walk backwards,
fixing on the air’s horizon,
leaving no room for second thought.
I will count the paces.
Ten, twenty, thirty.
I will wait for the surge of crazy strength.
I will run, arms wheeling,
and be gone.
Good person,
I hope to make the river,
winding in the sun’s silver,
to spare you the sight’s abomination.
My pile of jellied bones,
entrails of pastel,
abalone membranes.
If the punctured eyes contrive a stare,
it is not accusatory.
Only a mirror
of a hell that slowly did go by.
Hello, I am Lee Dunn. Working stiff (retired). Avid reader, dreamer, and searcher. I write some eclectic poetry, prose, personal stories, and fiction. Have had work published in the Shelburne Free Press. I blog on WordPress at https://secret-lifeof.com/
If you would like to have your work published in The Poetry Bar send your poem, a few words about yourself and the link to your blog and Instagram (if you have one) to the e-mail poetrybar1@gmail.comv