Across My Big Brass Bed

Form: French Sonnet 5

A Friday night in the lockdown
And my eyes stare at the neat stack
Of Bob Dylan CD’s; alone
A evening in, I’ll hear each track
Drinking beer in a dressing gown
With each song making me look back
‘It’s Alright Ma’, not feeling down
The hippie child don’t see no black
The hippie child seems long ago
I didn’t know where the winds blow
And life just seemed to be a joke
Just listening and drinking beer
And I ain’t got nothing to toke
Oh how they times have changed, my dear


3 thoughts on “Across My Big Brass Bed

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