Gwen

Her name was Gwendolyn

I met her on a plane

She was headed for Brooklyn

I was going to Spain

We laid over in DC

And talked through the night

Her mission was to set men free

Mine was to fight

We knew when we met that night

 Men were never free

And soldiers always fight

We both knew what ought to be

We discussed it with delight

She wore tie dyed shirts

I wore Army Green

She had a hippie skirt

I was shaven clean

We made a strange set

As opposite as could be

Anyone would have bet

She had no common ground with me

As we talked we discovered

That love is a state of mind

Any beliefs uncovered

Love had rendered blind

When the night turned day

She went on another plane

And I was on my way

We waved goodbye forever in the pouring rain

I wonder whatever happened to Gwen

Some forty years have passed

Does she still try to free all men?

Are there other questions asked?

Does she still demonstrate?

Against all forms of war

Has she faced the Magistrate?

For rallies she has scored

I guess I’ll always wonder

What became of Gwen

 Does she still rain thunder

Along with her mad young men

©4/26/07Terry Sutherland

Sans Peur

Terry