Feels Like A Saturday

by Regina

A reverence for the 60's, those years I think of most,
feels like a Saturday, in this nostalgic mind journey,
the Cowsills song, "Flower Girl,"
their purity of smiles, of song,
young American days of applause,
another dream streams,
of youth, running in a field with
so many wild daisies and lavender,
so much turbulence and change
in the America of Walt Disney,
and the Mickey Mouse Club.

Feels like a Saturday, my siblings,
we spent so many Saturdays in
the oblivious freedom kids enjoy,
riding shiny Schwinn bicycles,
as the Beatles' hit song, "Hard Days Night,"
on the teenage neighbors transistor radio
carried to our delighted ears,
my siblings' and our youth,
well, its given way to gray.

Feels like a Saturday, though America
has become angry again,
Mike, I remember our early days,
of the 80's,
I was pregnant and we had the
souls of seafaring Navy sailors-
and I sing the, "Navy Hymn",
imagining us holding hands again,
but, I awake, and still you sleep
in the slumber of the dreams of
oceans deep.


Miles T. Ranter's picture
Hi Regina, I enjoyed the list of recollections from the ’60s and that magical moment of the narrator holding hands with “Mike” in the ’80s. The “anger” of the ’60s turning up again in 2020 injects a slightly disquieting mood into the poem, yet reflects reality. The last sentence rounds the poem out nicely (though I can’t help wondering how the N knows what Mike is dreaming of, LOL!). Among the vintage songs alluded to, I didn’t remember “Flower Girl,” so I just listened to it. Happy New Year! Best, Miles.

Report SPAM


Regina's picture
Thank you so much, Bruce, for stopping by to read and comment on my poem. There's so much more to write about the 60's. Glad to meet another who lived through such a multi-faceted decade. Happy New Year.


Report SPAM