I wish I was from the sixties…
Looking up at the purple night sky looking for guidance to bring prosperity at peace. Twirling and skipping to Harrison’s album to capture and hold the world’s gaze into reality.
What surrounded them. The rights and lives to the people.
Sneaking into my room ripping my jeans into daisie-dukes. Throwing a bandana up and around my hair to show off my face, rebelling against societal views and wishes.
Gathering my friends together around the tapestry, playing and trying new things (perhaps some things that created a funky smell while making me feel at ease) while fingers glided against the acoustic string to generate words into song; humming poetry into melody; singing loudly to forget the pains of the world.
Grabbing a vanilla milkshake at the diner down the way that was home to the savory smell of deep fried oil that held the infamous delicicases such as frenchfries, hamburgers, and my personal favorite, the cheeseburger, that served to feed the land.
The waitress roller blading up to the driver’s side hanging a tray on the window as the 1966 Chevy radio elicicts louder sound,
And just then, Lennon’s voice filled the evening sky.
“But we all shine on.”