1 poem
by tim j brennan
toward bob dylan
Once something gets in the wind,
it will never get out. It will follow
across a country
through dreary cities,
windblown girls & breezy guys.
Grass will be replaced by smoke
and only the rich will be in love
with their past.
Most of us
would rather forget such things.
Remembering is an occurrence
for those who want nothing else.
Besides, what good are birches
except to remind someone how
much they once loved trees?