Reflections 2015: Guthrie and Dylan

In late December, I’d walk a few minutes down the street and then turn down 1961 Avenue Dylan would be standing at the corner with a worn map and leather bag, looking solemn and lost

We would sit on the corner and he would drag a harmonica out of his coat pocket —
I would attempt some notes but they’d hit the
Hard, cold, dirty snow sloppily napping in the street gutters

The guitar chords sounded flat in the winter air,
Picking notes nothing more than weak imitations of the emotional clanging in our veins and vessels
Slowly turning to bloody frost beneath our skin and hair

After a while we would talk about his visit with Guthrie
But we couldn’t use words to talk
Just avoidant body language, twisting our eye contact away from one another
Because when our eyes would meet – the sadness would press in and
Grab our throats in a chokehold
Clearing our throats to push it back into the corner of our mind

Instead, we would just absentmindedly hum his songs
While clutching paper cups of hot coffee
Before walking down the avenue to 1962

____
Thank you for reading this poem from
Reflections 2015, A Poetry Collection of Written Works by Tiny Fawns
This is a poetry compilation project featuring previously written content that I will share during periods of time when I am not available to provide daily updates. All poems from this collection were scheduled a week in advance. All comments, questions, and ping backs will receive a response once I return.

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