for Leslie

and

for Iris

I’ll look for you in old Honolulu,

San Francisco, Ashtabula,

Yer gonna have to leave me now, I know.

But I’ll see you in the sky above,

In the tall grass, in the ones I love,

Yer gonna make me lonesome when you go.

– Bob Dylan, “You’re Gonna Make Me

Lonesome When You Go”


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