This is one of the poems written as one of my very first songs iin Fredonia, Kansas in 1968, but also one of the about 300 poems I took out to a trash barrel in the alleyway behind my apartment, set the first one afire, and then fed the remaining, one at a time, into the fire, and burned them all. The next day I left Fredonia. There were maybe a dozen that I was not aware my Father had in Springfield MO, that he always loved, and he and his Uncle Percy, actually had a lot to do with my early poetry writing. This was one he saved. It was a song.