Take a walk with me;
I will show you Chewbacca things,
how trees have rings.

Inside.
The inside of things.

Thump my chest.
It won’t hurt me.
I am a particular kind

 of melon.

These are leaves.
Kick them and they scatter

like railroad tracks when the train

is coming, rolls over, clicks off
clattering to somewhere.

This is the sun in the wind.
Sometimes you can’t tell
the difference, which one
is touching your face.

I wonder if you’ll remember me
more than you’ll remember the wine?

Its sharp taste, that sourness of sun
and time. That thunder of wind

and time.

I tap and release you;
you fly away.

Oh, the differences
in different times.

 

 

After “Dark Star” by the Grateful Dead, as requested by my friend Dan. I strongly preferred this performance, which is longer but prettier. In the last couple of stanzas, you might see influences from this one. Listening to the two very different versions probably gave me the “differences” theme.

All this month, I’m writing poems based on songs. Have a request? Great! Please mention it in the comments.