Thursday, May 21, 2009

The Last Rider

Then did a fellow smile?
Better - or worse- he knew.
But we know too much of Forrest
Not to believe it true,
And we know what call has a rider
To come between dark and dawn
To the bluegrass that sired him
And the roads he fought on;
And do not doubt that Forrest can come
From Mississippi side
Back where the living do not fight
And only the dead can ride.

-Donald Davidson

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