By the time we got to Haight-Ashbury
by the time we got to Haight- Ashbury,
the hippies were no longer visible
on the streets-- they were laying low
in flower fields and tree-houses...
it was 1968, and being twelve, I was focused on buying a pewter peace medallion,
a Patchouli scented Indian wrap around skirt,and dancing my own kind of modern..
holding visions to live like a hippie,
sip herbal celestial seasonings tea,
walk barefoot, in harmony...
over wildflower fields...
letting love and peace be the only
philosophy that would travel through
my blood stream for the rest
of my time on earth...
we stepped out of the hippie shop
to witness-- a man running from the cops,
blood on the streets, a crowd screaming
in an uproar--
salt in the wounds of a twelve-year old--
whose peace seeking has never stopped
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