The 60s

This poem was written before a reunion in the year 2000 in Charleston, South Carolina where I lived in the early 60s. We were young people who either were from military households with fathers leaving or from families who were down on their luck. In 2000, we began reunions of old friends getting together and seeing one another, many  or the first time in 35 years.

TIME TO GO HOME

We’ve been gone since the mid sixties

We went our own way

Right before Vietnam

When dreams still came true

Searching for castles that we never

Knew

We all moved on to other things

The “Project” days were gone

Our lives became complex

Never knowing what would happen next

And never looking back

But sometimes we’d remember

A time so long ago

A party, a hangout,  a kiss in the dark

Swinging our hearts out at Ben Tillman Park

Banjos, Guitars,

A walk on the beach

Chasing a fly ball; we couldn’t

Quite reach

It was a time of confusion,

Where did they go?

Did they say good bye?

Do we really know?

It was a time of true friendship,

We were never alone

First cars, first dates,

Talks on phone

It’s time to go home, to

Open the door

Some made it in 2000

We’d love to see more

Our youth has gone by

But our friendship’s still there

It’s time to come home

With memories to share

In 1965, I left Charleston and moved to San Diego, went to college and began my 32 year career with the Federal Government.

1965, The One I left Behind

My life was not yet mine

I couldn’t stay

I wanted to

I never loved a man

Though you were 17

But you weren’t a child

You were strong

And cared so much more

For me than for yourself

We wrote 17 page letters to

Each other

You sent me a necklace watch

And called me every day

For awhile

I missed your smile

But I was growing up

And having fun with those

I didn’t leave behind

I wanted you to see my life

He was so much like you

But you were lost for 42 years

And then I found you

Two months too late

1967

Passion? Lust?

Under 21 Military Club that no one remembers

He appeared, the most beautiful green eyes ever

Sandles Laced up to his knees, he was a sailor?

Cocky, not at all the “Yes Sir” Type

That I had known for most of my life

Daring, impulsive

Telling me he didn’t frequent

The square sailor boy clubs

Hitchiking in the back of a pick up truck

To psychedelic lights and Jimi Hendricks

The most amazing high

But what goes up, must come down

Crashing and to the ground

With disenchantment

“You’re a good kid, but I want a

Prostitute, run along”

1968

We should have stayed friends

We were you know

Nothing heavy

A date now and then

Talking about life

As it was in 1968

You had your ideas

Of how a woman should be

I didn’t agree

We should have never

Crossed that line

But that was a different time

Love was free

No, it wasn’t