Wish I could’ve been in the park
sitting cross-legged on the grass
with flowers in my hair.
Listening to the poets
with their beat.
Psychedelic rock music playing.
I would’ve painted peace signs
and hearts on your cheek.
We would’ve woven our stories
together on how to stop the war,
as we walked along in the park.
Born a bit too late,
missing a period in time,
I wish I could've called mine.
When love was preached –
the world was a different place.
Red Wolf Journal Spring 2014, and a fresh start
2 years ago