You
Rider of the blue moon
Weaving through the silver laced wind
Heading west of the sliding mountains
Rushing from the tired American pavement
Following that natural Isis breeze
Calling from the red rocks like some sort of Zion
The colorless draft paints clouds across the sky
A day map of the stars
A free bird rambler guides you home
To the brilliant ivory desert sunset
Sprinkling your shoulders in gold
