that Woodstock was no big deal,
peace & love is passé anyway
put their ipods in and keep to themselves.
The old-timers'll tell ya
it'll never be like 1969
yeah '69 when the scene was new.
Dead hippies don't dance
inside hula hoops.
I heard the singer painting pictures,
upon a summer ski slope
in the Catskills
made me think of becoming:
Woodstock never was
when it really comes down to it
not for me anyway.
Here before me an ageless garden blooms
and I am all.
In my head looking out
through an amplified window
at someone's sandaled feet resting numbly on a miracle
overlooking the daytime stage -
they must be mine. No one else has claimed them.
I watched the leaves sway with speckled sun-spotted rhythm
and flowers groovin'
safe inside the hula-hoops that orbit their tanned trimmed bellies
tempting me with eternal youth
endless tie-dyed road trip
the Woodstock girls are in their rocking chairs graying.
And these early summer flowers will wilt as well,
this mountain will be buried
and no one will know that they danced
While these bands play the bars
fresh flowers sleep
beneath the packed snow of Hunter Mountain
but I may not be around to pick them.