HARTFORD, John
    
      
    
      
    
      
    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 are dried upon some line
    
      
    
      
    That keeps you in the backroads
  
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 their 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're moving on the backroads
  
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's cryin' 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 'til I'm blind
    
      
    
      
    But not to where I cannot see
  
You walkin' on the backroads
    By the rivers flowing gentle on my mind
    
      
    
      
    I dip my cup of soup back from a gurglin'
  
Cracklin' caldron in some train yard
My beard a roughening coal pile,
And a dirty hat pulled low across my face
Through cupped hands 'round the tin can
    I pretend to hold you to my breast and find
    
      
    
      
    That you're waiting from the backroads
  
By the rivers of my memories
Ever smilin' ever gentle on my mind
    
      
    
      
    This Eve of Parting
  
    
      
    It's hard to think this eve of parting
  
Turns to sand of summer gone
When both our minds are warped with parting
Break the thought of nights alone
    
      
    Maybe I should turn in silence
  
Tell myself I didn't care
Curse the thought of your existence
Loving every flaxon hair
    
      
    Flesh cries out, "Don't move don't leave me"
  
Conscience runs till out of breath
Sunrise pregnant with your leaving
Creeping in like certain death
    
      
    The pattern of the bird of love
  
That's wheelin' on its dizzy way
Tears me down to basic sorrow
Useless for another day
    
      
    It's hard to think this eve of parting
  
Turns to sand of summer gone
When both our minds are warped with parting
Break the thought of nights alone
    
      
    Flesh cries out, "Don't move don't leave me"
  
Conscience runs till out of breath
Sunrise pregnant with your leaving
Creeping in like certain death