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.
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