Ah, that hearkens me back to the day...
Days when I smoked some mighty fine hashish. There was more hash back then than there was pot. Ah, those young, carefree (except for the weights of worlds discovered and trudged and sweltered through), stoned, drunken days - growing still, roots, taking hold throughout my community where I was born and raised (and still live), no seeking fortunes in yonder hinterlands, but the depths of land and country, raised living, seeing, the Creation surrounding all around me in every waking hour.
And I shall post this as a piece of a larger entry, that is some of these summer words, where I can breathe the comfort of a warm August's night.
Cheers, oh yes, cheers! Despots shall not hold sway over our freedom. North America is uniquely blessed, and never its twain shall be met...
God bless us everyone!
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