image credit: tolbert

she wore springtime in her hair, san francisco, sixty-eight
while the world collapsed around her, she got high ‘neath the golden gate

fortune cookies served in china town were bitter sweet and never true
but springtime filled the city air, in a city built for two

when he looked into her hungry eyes, he saw a future they could never share
a foreign war was calling, she knew he would leave his body there

so they kissed beneath the golden gate and made love beneath the stars
where the presidio saw the water and brave soldiers plotted wars

and now a lifetime later, she plants bougainvillea in the ground
while remembering san francisco, sixty-eight, and the trumpet’s cruelest sound

© 2012, tolbert. All rights reserved.

tolbert (24 Posts)

Born in Virginia and raised in North Carolina, I have Southern roots that were extracted when I lived close enough to Berkeley in the late sixties and early seventies to taste the influences of the pursuit of freedom. As a student at San Jose State University I watched William Kuntsler expound on the values of free speech and he offered more education in an hour, on the lawn by the baseball diamond than most professors gave in a full semester. Married for thirty years, I have two grown daughters and three grandkids,..and two Boston Terriers.


  1. Tolbert,


    “the trumpet’s cruelest sound’ still rings in my mind all these long years later.

    Flag Day 1968 found me in Vietnam fighting for my life. Fortunately I won, but I also lost and the loss still lingers.

    Great words about a profound topic.


  2. tolbert (Author)

    Thank you Larry…this is, unfortunately, a topic stil too close to home and yet it is part of our history. Thanks for reading.

  3. Tolbert, this is achingly beautiful and full of heartbreaking moments from a time worth remembering yet difficult to do. Your ability to create so much in so few words is captivating. And the photo itself is wonderfully compelling. This one will be read again and again.

  4. That brings so many memories, good and bad to my mind. A wonderful piece of writing

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