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Listen to the Wind
"The answer is blowin' in the wind" ~ Bob Dylan, 1963
One fine day, I sat upon my hammock, swayin'.
I heard the breeze, and asked, "what are you sayin?"
"Would you truly like to know?", he said with a gust,
"I'll tell you if I must", stirring up some dust.
I'm as old as the world. I've seen all places.
I recall everything that time erases.
I've visited battlefields and soldiers, brave,
and cemeteries, with many a lonely grave.
I caressed Indian grass and cottonwood trees.
I pushed ships carrying horses, guns, and disease.
I carried jasmine perfume aloft in the air
and mussed up Rapunzel's long and golden hair.
I wafted through an orphanage where children play.
I puffed Babe Ruth's called home run one October day.
There's just one remaining thing I forgot to say,
The wind never gives anything away".
Yet, I understood not a word the wind had said,
for he blew me off my hammock onto my head.
Oh, what I'd know if it weren't that I were dead.
Copyright ©
David Crandall
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