The Hurdy Gurdy Man

The Hurdy Gurdy Man
Cranks his reliable crank
And plinks his plinkable keys
And watches me walking by
While mindlessly making music
From a world that seems long-gone.

It’s so strange to feel the breeze on my face
From the train as it speeds by
And I find myself wishing to be the
Baby wrapped soundly in her mother’s arms
Across the track.
The smells of sulfur
And a thousand pairs of wet winter boots
Drench the insides of my nostrils.
When the doors open
Everyone rushes in
And we try our best not to touch.
As the car lurches forward,
Alone together we ride.

And the Hurdy Gurdy Man
Plays on.


~ by ettaqueen on January 21, 2011.

2 Responses to “The Hurdy Gurdy Man”

  1. Very nicely done. One suggestion… do you really need the “each other” at the end of the line 5 from the bottom? Might be stronger to end with the word “touch.”
    Just a thought, nice either way.

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