George Has Disappeared
George is -- no was -- my guardian angel.
He traveled the back roads with me for a dozen
It was George who sat through the night
Of freezing rain and wind
When the radiator gave out in Wendover
And the tow-truck driver refused
To brave the Salt Flats at 2:00 A.M.
As car and truck ignored us,
A flat tire having stopped us at midnight
In the snow outside Battle Mountain.
He also watched when the alternator died,
First in Lovelock and then again
In both Rachel and Schurz.
He made the trip across the Southwest
And back across the middle of the nation.
He flew to DC
And to Texas
and to Vancouver.
George also protected.
In those dozen years or more
There were a myriad situations
In which I should have seen danger.
Truckers decided to play a dangerous game of tag
Outside of Magna, Utah;
A carload of gang members followed across Las Vegas;
And an angry patron threatened both me
And the business with destruction.
As long as George was there,
I knew nothing would happen.
But now he's gone --
I felt him leave.