by Len Gould
Like newborn foal, on unsure, spindly legs,
how did such talent come to reside
within so frail a form?
Chinook-features, long, blond hair,
she stoked the star-making machinery behind the popular song.
Along now, 'a painter derailed by circumstance',
she makes swirls-of-colour pictures in her canyon studio home.
Armed with chosen instruments of war,
- acoustic guitar and harmonica,
held by brace, tight, before his face,
- this creature, half young boy,
half old man, demanded our attention,
asked how it felt to be on your own;
alerting us to changing times.
They held me in thrall, to the lyric;
that it's all right, not to think twice,
but move on, like a rolling stone.
And from the many-angled sides,
see love, life...........clouds.