1971,
They were all hippie-ish,
freethinkers.
Even John Smith, with his suit and tie,
job at Sealtest,
never climbed a corporate ladder.

It was perfect.
Rights, freedom, and good music,
were the only cares in the world.

Carole King blasted off LP’s
while four kids and two kids-at-heart
danced through the kitchen,
and the living room, and bedroom,
along with the cigarette smoke.

They ran shirtless and ate Cracker Jacks
because,
why not?

Peace signs, flowers, hearts
and braless women,
protesting stereotypes
and traditional education.
These were anti-war days.

These were the love days,
family days,
joining hands days.