I Recognized Her on the Street

Her dreadlocks were familiar as was her patchouli smell I recognized her folk music, understood it rather well She brought back the seventies in the sweetest way I was thrilled to stumble upon this guitarist today She gave me a glance, and I saw gold in her eyes. Something ethereal about her did not give me any surprise. I thought of the youth who tried to change the world back then. Her music was soulful and soft, a truly wonderful win. I invited her to supper and learned her life story of course. She had grown up in the country with six cows and a horse. Her story was my own, but sadder by quite a little bit. I hugged her good-bye, knowing she would not have a fit.