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Trisha G.: More dead people.
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Trisha G.: Another dead guy.
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Trisha G.: Some dead guy.
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Trisha G.: Cemetery rain.
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Trisha G.: Ittelson.
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Trisha G.: Stony.
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Trisha G.: I smell of the earth and am worn by the weather.
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Trisha G.: Drive-by barn, silos, dead people.
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Trisha G.: They were born and then they lived and then they died.
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Trisha G.: Graves and corn.
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Trisha G.: Oh, the reds. The reds!
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Trisha G.: Creepy day.
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Trisha G.: Foggy.
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Trisha G.: goofing.
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Trisha G.: Graceland Cemetery. Sidney, Ohio.
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Trisha G.: poor roy is spending eternity alone.
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Trisha G.: ogether forever.
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Trisha G.: This is a good photo.
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Trisha G.: Magnolia tree, angel. Blah, blah.
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Trisha G.: She had a pleasant elevation.
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Trisha G.: Time doth vomit even on lambs of God.
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Trisha G.: I have very poor judgment.
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Trisha G.: My great-grandmother sent us out to pick raspberries in her garden while she watched the first moon walk on TV. You'll have plenty of time to see things like that, she said, but those raspberries were carried overland by your great-great-grandfather.
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Trisha G.: Graceland Cemetery. Sidney, Ohio.
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Trisha G.: Long lost words whisper slowly to me.
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Trisha G.: Graceland Cemetery. Sidney, Ohio.
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Trisha G.: 257
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Trisha G.: she was my favorite.