We were children of the ‘60s…we were hippies in our souls.
Our hair came to our shoulders…and we lived on rock and roll.
Today we do our rolling in the mountains …
where we listen to the trees…and take long walks
where we think about our life together…and paint messages on rocks.
It’s a tradition at our cabin…anyone who’s ever come her and reclined:
You can paint a rock and take it with you…but, please, leave one behind.
And that’s what’s happened over the years…rocks for all to see…
filling up our cabin……left behind by friends and family.
Yesterday the sun was shining…we were cooled by a mountain breeze
when we stopped to look at all our rocks…and relive old memories.
It’s a wonderful phenomenon…
how in an instant…a moment and a memory are ignited…
and how…in another instant…
the two are reunited.
Now we’re in our 60’s… we’re still hippies in our souls…
and though our hair is a little shorter…we still love old rock and roll.
And we never dreamed we’d be this lucky…
listening to the trees…taking long walks…
And rolling out old memories…
in a bunch of painted rocks.
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