Happy Belated Birthday, Gary Snyder

I was going to post this Gary Snyder poem a few weeks ago when it was still so cold at night, but then I thought, “No, I am not posting any sad hippy poems. I’m past that.”

However, yesterday was the poet’s 81st birthday and, oh look, it’s cold again. So here it is–it’s an old favorite, so the fond memories of first reading it cancel out my desire to shout, “Get a house to sleep in, hippy!” at the end.

Siwashing It Out Once in Suislaw Forest

I slept under rhododendron

All night blossoms fell

Shivering on a sheet of cardboard


Feet stuck in my pack

Hands deep in my pockets

Barely able to sleep.


I remembered when we were in school


Sleeping together in a big warm bed

We were the youngest lovers

When we broke up we were still nineteen

Now our friends are married


You teach school back east


I don't mind living this way

Green hills the long blue beach
But sometimes sleeping in the open

I think back when I had you.