If Billy was a Mountain, and Ethyl was a tree how many flaps of its wings would it take an Iron Butterfly to travel from Buffalo, NY non-stop to a Colony of like-minded Free Spirits?
Impossible to say, unless perhaps under the influence of some Grade-A Brown A – the kind warned about via one of the stage announcements at Woodstock. But, “hey,’ it’s your trip so do as you please.”
A Silver Bay Sliver. An organic fix guaranteed to deliver and deliver. Old friends. Even older now. But young and vibrant and Kite high soaring by. Set in stone their memories roam. Where? How? Can you touch one? Pick it up and show it to a different friend? No. Neither. None. But that makes them no less real. No less dear. Because YOU can see them. Just close your eyes. Pick a number from A – Z. Ouch! What does that mean?
I’ll be the Roundabout. Will get there out and out. So what if I can’t see? Rain Rain Go Away.
You. Standing at the top of the stairs. I can see you this instant. Chanting: “I am Rubber. You are Glue. Whatever I say bounces off of me & sticks to you.” I was little. You were my BIG sister. I had no comeback. No way to counter that. All these years later, I still don’t.
Told a friend about it once. How, with that line ‘My sister always used to get the better of me.’ Now, SHE had a comeback: ‘So, that’s where it went.’ Aaaarg …
“Oh, these tracks?” They haven’t been used in years. Those burnt out cars? Pay them no mind. But … wait … Look over there … Do you see what I see ?! Yes, Deer.
You’re a spunky one. A funky one. A fun-in-the-sun One & One & One …
And … as I told you some years earlier when I was leaving. You’re my only One. The Only One I’ll Ever Have. Stay in touch. Won’t Ya?
So glad you did. And do.
Happy Birthday, My Favorite Sister …