Dear Gabrielle Horne, my sister and muse,
when it rains I think of the grass in front of our house beaten from sun and coffee's feet.
The tea that you were always making,
the salmon color of the kitchen when I came home from Korea,
the Coluber Constrictor in the
pear tree outside the second-story window.
I wish I could be with everyone all the time.  But, I can't.
Life is meant to be lonely.
Love,
Miss Missing