A six mile walk
on grass that would be mud,
despising suit and tie
gathers in an esplanade
the barefoot generation.

I slept under the trees
on the nest that was my sack,
an image etched in my mind
of a hundred thousand floating lighters
that to the echo of all the voices
They killed the silence.

The crowd was swaying
vibrating hypnotically,
without sleeping, without eating,
between smoke and happiness
the ground moves to all of us.

iconic melodies
mark a new beginning
victorious peaceful youth
that glimpses among a thousand colors
a still uncertain future.