on slow days
thoughts free to wonder
over to west hurley
and down past ashokan
the reservoir
and georgia waving
from the back of a car

sis holds your hand
she holds it so tightly
she digs in her fingernails
and later that night
she whispers a name
she says it aloud
for the last time
cutting that milkweed
bending down low
in her navy blue dress
I'll never know
which one I resemble the best 
oh georgia you have been missed