What is it that is Me

I could not tell you who I am
Or whom I'm meant to be

I remember a golf course in the hills of Berkeley
Carrying a bag of clubs a thousand links without a caddy
I always liked to play
And sleep
And lay
Passing clouds
My sent mixing with the smell of hay
Why didn't I dream earlier and often into my day

Long was my shadow in summers of my youth
Which slips to a launder-mat, my Chicago, your LA
I haven't known what to do from day one or twenty two
But fold my clothes and pick up books for I am but a traveler
I am but a wisp as sands that dance along a lonely beach
I am the sound of a wave that crests but never breaks

Notions to change the world mix with fear and forgetfulness
And I did hike the peak of a blue ridge
And I did bike from lake to ocean deep
And I did walk in shadow of a red square wall
And I did dance in basement of more then one beer hall
And I did swim in waters bluer than a new born babies eyes
And I did sing with words my tale that weaves on still
I did all this in solo but not solitude
Wide open and breathing full
But now that it is memory and
Lost to the world except for this weak brew spilled on yellow hue
I asks myself
What did I do
In what remains
(eternity or moments few)
What should I do
How do I make the choice that's true?

I could not tell you who I am
Or whom I'm meant to be.