hair now turning grey,
an aging boomer in final protest,
Father Time his cause this day.
He donned his headband, his tie-dyed jeans,
his scorched draft card from protests past,
then set out for one last battle:
To find his youth
that had quietly passed.
But he found no placards, no lively speeches,
no angry taunts and shouts;
no pretty girls wearing mini skirts,
passing flowers all about.
and more freedom across this land;
He found a kid demanding equality for women,
and also his fellow man.
He found Martin, Chavez, and Malcolm,
standing by his side;
He found Thomas Jefferson
and all his forefathers
beaming down with pride;
He found minority children across this land
whose reach now exceed their grasp;
He found Jim Crow angrily cursing him,
as he took his final gasp.
He found pride as an aging boomer,
more hero, than common man;
He found a quirky old fart embraced by history,
for having the courage to take a stand.
Thank you Boomer.
Eric Wattree