Aboard this museum bus painted with Flower Power
designs, I listen to audio and feel like I’m a hippie
from Haight Ashbury along for the ride.
During my youth, I witnessed the turbulence
of the 60’s, night after night on TV--
the bombing of Vietnam, our boys burning
draft cards, Blacks being beaten. It’s clear why
the concert was held.
Ticket stubs yellowed behind glass. I still wish
I attended. I study quotes from planners, examine
photos, watch film. Learn that sponsors paid
performers, Max Yasgur.
Outside on this sacred hill, the music lives on.
I hear “Freedom” ring out from Ritchie Havens
in his mustard peasant shirt and pants as he keeps beat
on a conga. With her acoustic guitar and flowing hair, Joan Baez convinces me “We Shall Overcome.” Santana keeps
me “Waiting” through a rapturous drum solo that mesmerizes.
The Band sings “The Weight” and my soul sings along
as I pull into Nazareth. In a trance, Grace Slick belts
about having “Somebody to Love.” Jimi Hendrix closes
the concert with his legendary anthem. His electric guitar
vibrates in anguish, a tribute to a generation lost in turmoil.
I step between black cairns marking the stage.
Gray stones form peace signs and hearts. I imagine
a crowd of a half million people and bow. I can’t offer
music, but I can recite poetry as the sky melts
into sunset. Dawn a whisper away.
Nancy Manning holds an MFA in poetry from Southern Connecticut State University. Her work has appeared in an eclectic mix of publications; most recently Humans of the World posted her poem "To Those Watching and Listening." Her poetry collections are entitled Amethyst Garden, The Unspoken of Our Days, and the newly released What Glues Us Together; her novel Undertow of Silence won the TAG publishing award.