Can you imagine we actually drank that stuff?
Thought we were cool.
In our ’69 van
with its tie-dye curtains,
peace sign on the back window.
Wheels that gave us freedom,
took us cross-country,
through the endless plains of mid-America,
to the foot of the Rockies–
and beyond.
Boone’s Farm wine accompanied us,
along with John Denver
singing “Rocky Mountain High”
around the campfire.
We were high–
high on life,
high on dreams and innocence.
High on the energy of hope.
In the ’60s.
Many years and miles later,
cleaning out the van to sell,
we found a bottle
tucked under the seat.
Forgotten,
like that lost summer
of our youth.
We looked at each other
and smiled.
by Lynn DiGiacomo
MyWriteSite 