I was twelve years old. <br /> <br />The one-man band from Duluth <br />with harmonica <br />blowing in the wind. Not you, true <br />boyo <br />destined <br />to die forever <br />young; <br /> <br />a few of us <br /> <br />kids brought your into- <br />nations back to life <br />on Saturdays after classes <br />at the Dundee Rep. <br />The others read. <br />Fumbling into love <br />with consonants and tones, <br /> <br />the idea of Wales <br /> <br />suddenly began to regurgitate a mouth - <br />organ for blowing raspberries <br />and getting lost and passionate, and all <br />without even knowing <br />I had swallowed <br />Llandudno <br />at the age of two.<br /><br />Jacqui Thewless<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dylan-t/
