Gentle On My Mind

It’s knowing that your door is always open

And your path is free to walk

That makes me tend to leave my sleeping bag

Rolled up and stashed behind your couch

And it’s knowing I’m not shackled by

forgotten words and bonds

And the ink stains that have dried if on some line

That keeps you in the back-roads

By the rivers of my memory

that keeps you ever gentle on my mind

It’s not clinging to the rocks and ivy

Planted on the columns now that bind me

Or something that somebody said

Because they thought we fit together walking

It’s just knowing that the world will not be cursing

Or forgiving when I walk along some

railroad track and find

That you are moving on the back-roads

by the rivers of my memory

And for hours you’re just gentle on my mind

Though the wheat fields and the clothes lines

And the junkyards and the highways come between us

And some other woman crying to her mother

Cause she turned and I was gone

I still might run in silence

tears of joy might stain my face

And the summer sun might burn me till I’m blind

But not to where I cannot see you

walking on the back-roads

By the rivers flowing gentle on my mind

I dip my cup of soup back from the gurgling

Crackling caldron in some train yard

My beard a roughning coal pile and

A dirty hat pulled low across my face

Through cupped hands ’round a tin can

I pretend I hold you to my breast and find

That you’re waving from the back-roads

By the rivers of my memory’s

ever smiling ever gentle on my mind