then the dark, silently glistening streets and, inside,
smells of incense and weed mingled in the air:
all our futures breathing themselves to life.
© BH, 2024
First trip to the smoke. Heydeys of hippiedom. Seems like a dream to me now - the streets full of light and strangeness. A whirlwind of meetings with longhairs. One who said, ‘You got wheels?’ Then, ‘Far out’, when we said we had.
A lot of tomorrows were riding on that. Tomorrows and induced dreaming…
No comments:
Post a Comment