To My Hippie Friend
—by Gardiner M. Weir
I can’t believe she’s dead!
Memory plays such foolish jokes —
her hair dyed green. Nature’s choice she said,
and all us folks just smiled. It was she,
how she was seen; a hippie in baggy dress,
string beads, bare feet, guitar to hug-caress,
a human acronym strung together by a beat;
to me the saddest funeral hymn.
Copyright © 2003 Gardiner M. Weir
Page last updated 8 May 2006
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