A Tribute to a lost companion...

To my other, now kidnapped, Christmas goose cup, I offer this:

Second Poem

Thank god I have an innocent eye for nature.

I was born to remember a song about love - on a hill a butterfly

makes a cup that I drink from, walking over a bridge of

flowers.

- Peter Orlovsky


You will be missed. But, it's better to burn out than it is to rust...