Blowin' in the Wind
The feather blew in the wind
The brim of his hat remained still as if temporarily frozen with coolness
His shoe laces, permanently untied
The man in him stood like stonehenge in a hurricane
And the lady in him nervously bit her nails
The landscape behind him formed like fans at an enthusiastic gig in which the songs were twisted much like the singers eyebrows and leathery skin
His teeth ground together
And a mound of gray dust lay next to his right foot
His frayed guitar strap just about held up the mahogany Gibson Les Paul, which was cemented to his fingertips like a girls tight grip on her first vinyl record with the words “Highway 61 revisited” imprinted on the back
- Cora Thornton-Silver, May 28th 2015
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