A love,
Georgia peach,
Seventy-one crushed by blood,
There is no respect,
If there is no love,
Older parents and gay child,
I miss the hellian I know she is,
Not the milk toast adult coloring southern peach,
When she came briefly to Iowa,
Sherry plated in the snow,
Made snow balls,
Threw them at me,
We drove around Quasqueton,Iowa,
Saw deer,
Big foot,
Her radiant smile,
Ate at Bill’s twice,
Ate at Wolfies,
Drove through cemeteries,
She hated I had three cats,
They were the only family I had,
Then she left me and returned to Georgia,
Val Whitewolf 