Poem by Robert Bly

My dear children, do you remember the morning

When we climbed into the old Plymouth

And drove west straight toward the Pacific?

We were all the people there were.

We followed Dylan’s songs all the way west.

It was Seventy; the war was over, almost;

And we were driving to the sea.

We had closed the farm, tucked in

The flap, and were eating the honey

Of distance and the word “there.”

Oh whee, we’re gonna fly

Down into the easy chair. We sang that

Over and over. That’s what the early

Seventies were like. We weren’t afraid.

And a hole had opened in the world.

We laughed at Las Vegas.

There was enough gaiety

For all of us, and ahead of us was

The ocean. Tomorrow’s

The day my bride’s gonna come.

And the war was over, almost.

Note: “You Ain’t Goin’ Nowhere” is the Bob Dylan song referred to in “Driving West in 1970.” Listen to a 1968 version by the Byrds here. Find it on Bob Dylan’s Greatest Hits, Volume II at

Photo: 1960 Plymouth Fury. When “Driving West in 1970” mentions “old Plymouth,” I figured the car was at least 10 years old (though the vehicle in the above photo looks grand). From what I’ve gathered, while other car models were moving away from fins, the fins on the 1960 Plymouth Fury were bigger than ever. I like to think of these Plymouth fins helping the Bly family fly and swim all the way to the ocean during this 1970 journey.