When We Did things Like This,

In the 1970s, 
when we did things like this, 
I would sometimes travel 
to an artist commune
on a mountain 
just outside of Hopland, 
where we would assemble 
in a meadow 
halfway up the mountain 
get stoned and play music.

 Krishna Bhatt would play his sitar; 
his girlfriend,
 a tiny slip of a girl, 
would improvise on 
a delightfully ethereal flute;
 whatever other musicians 
gathered there that day 
strumming,
 banging 
or blowing 
on their instruments of choice; 
Musical illiterates, 
like me, 
pounding out 
strange rhythmics
on whatever was near at hand. 

We would play music, 
often non-stop, 
for hours 
until night fell.

Then we’d take
 the jam session inside 
one of the cottages 
on that mountain. 

Now and then,
one of us would 
drop out of the performance 
take a toke, 
drink of wine, or 
just lay back on the grass, 
bath in the sounds, 
stare at the sky. 

For several years, 
I spent my summers 
on that mountain 
with my friend, 
living in a teepee 
by a little stream
 where we would bath 
in the mornings. 

She, a well-known 
civil-rights lawyer,. 
She left me for a musician. 
That was a common experience
 in my life 
— not living in a teepee on a mountainside, 
but girlfriends leaving me for musicians. 

I played the accordion for a while 
as a teenager.
 I wonder if I kept it up, 
it would have made 
a difference 
in my love life.