From Orillia, Ontario, Canada
Comes a horseman, wild and free
Guitar slinger, songwriter
Poet of the Frozen Northland
If you could read his mind
What it could tell
Too silent to be real
But he was, and is
In the early morning rain
He took the ribbon of darkness off me
If only for a little while
Turned my mind into an endless wire
For if not for him, would no one know
of the fate of the Edmund Fitzgerald?
Better take care, Sundown
Not to insult him around me.
It'll be murder in the first degree.
Drink your glasses empty
In the name of this painter passing through in history
And let me dwell in the art of his imagination
With Dream Street Rose and The Pony Man
And the navvies who built the railway
For a dollar a day
And a place for their head
And let the big steel rail
Carry me home
To the ones I love
Because that's what you get
For loving him
Previously published on Medium
Author’s Note: I wrote and published this when Gordon Lightfoot was diagnosed with cancer. Unfortunately, as you probably know, he died at the beginning of this week, and today is being laid to rest back in Orillia where it all started.
I authored this out of a fear that he might not be remembered after his passing. But, seeing the outpouring of tributes and grief following his death, it was, like a lot of my fears, overblown and misplaced.
David, this was a wonderful tribute to a music legend. Though he hailed from Canada, he was a world treasure. He joined poetry to music like few have ever done and will be remembered for his writing and his performances emphasizing his one of a kind vocals. Thanks for sharing. Beautiful.
A great tribute to a great artist, David. Vale Gordon Lightfoot 💛