the black and white cat

in the summer of
seventy one, with
my friend perry herbert
we hitch hiked to
ocean city maryland.
we had twenty dollars
between us, a few
nickel bags of poor
weed and our sleeping
bags which held a
bathing suit and a
toothbrush and zig
zag rolling papers.
the three hour trip
took eight hours.
our hair and youth
did not encourage
cars to stop,
and if they did
they were tourists
from france or spain
or someone who needed
cash for gas. we
had no problem meeting
girls despite our
shaggy dog appearances,
but would be run off
by their fathers
when we tried to see
them later, at
their family hotels.
at night we'd go to
the dunes, away from
the houses, the cheap
motels and find someplace
to camp for the night.
and in the morning
the cops would wake us
up with megaphones
from their squad cars
parked along the
highway. one morning
before that happened,
i awoke and
found a beautiful
black and white cat
in my sleeping bag,
curled up beside me.
she was purring,
dreaming, as happy and
free as she could be,
so much like us.