Poetry: In the Time of Troubadours

I listened to the new Dylan album (Rough and Rowdy Ways) and it’s pretty good, with him in more control of his voice and some lush production at times, as well as some old-school blues. To think he’s been doing this — releasing music (some great, some not so great) — for nearly 60 years is pretty amazing, even if you are not a fan of Dylan.

This morning’s poem is about Dylan and listening to him in my earbuds:

Gravel-voiced troubadour,
my ears are ringing
with your singing,
the way you’re always
bringing characters
into song;

A lyric
is a poem
is a story
is a commentary,
exposing shadowed light
with a turn of phrase
forgotten in the night

We’re all still lifting
so many songs of self,
sixty years of music
sleeves, yet you belong
to somewhere else

Peace (singing it),

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