Modern Day Hippie
Young at heart
A cigarette in one hand, a joint in the other
Right from the start
Feathers once draped my mother’s sunlit hair
She ran the ocean’s edge, laughing without an ounce of care
We look back at those days with only tangible photographs in our dirty little hands,
Fabricating a dream of being a child of the 70’s,
catching glimpses of them running and catching up as fast as they can
Like they were, like they are.
She told her daughter that she worked for the holes in her blue jeans, and that Cosmo had told us differently, the new American Dream was made of plastic and locked behind bars inevitably.
Though I want a country where freedom peeps out from behind you
and grasps you tightly, welcoming you back.
– Sarah E. McKinney