It is nice to meet you.
It’s been a while since you’ve been here, with us. Casey and I were standing a field last night,
I told him, “we all turn to stars, in the end.”
Because, Henry, I think it is true. In fact, I am almost certain.
I’m sorry Henry, I did not have anything more to offer you. No cigarettes, no beer, or flowers. No Chevy, no pin from the north. But I left you some glass. It isn’t just any glass. Iva gave it to me, she said, “this glass, it’s special,”
It looks like beach glass. It’s been there in my wallet for a long time now. It was there when I crashed the truck, and there when I’ve ridden my motorcycle.
I’m sorry I did not have more to offer you. But, Henry, it’s been nice to meet you. We all turn to stars in the end.