Peace, Ghost

After reading my last post about the peace movement, Patrushka says to me , “Seems like a long time ago…”
I know it should – we’re talking 1961-62 here – but I’ll tell you, to me it’s all happening in the next room.
I’ve always had this trouble. I breed ghosts. I finally left San Francisco because I got tired of running into the little blighters, except now I’m gone, I miss them. Like little children watching me as I breezed around the corner from Haight onto Masonic.
For me, forty years – I snap my fingers – Pah!
And I want to write about those days. Then maybe I can go tend my bees like a normal person.

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