Children of the Summer

Thanks mom.

Children of the Summer

You say you would have been a flower child

with rings on your fingers, beads around your neck.

I expect you’d dance across the country

and into the history books praising 

peace. War was bought out by free love and the cries

of millions of mothers are muffled 

by tye dye songs of acidic love. 

Stars and stripes traded for purple hearted

peace signs, a holy child of Hofmann

happily spreading his secret solvent

of unity with Woodstock and Kent State.

You say you would have been a flower child

but you were three and the war wasn’t your

problem. What was it they were fighting for?