Outlaws in Winter Pass
(For Waylon Jennings)

Outlaws in winter pass the gate;
shadows across the moon, they move
into the night of memory
and restless dreams on saddles worn,
their horses black as ebon wood.
The silver night has called them in,
has beckoned them to ride again
where boot heels mark a leathered path
that leads to these soft stars...

so bright beneath the Hunter's bow.

Ron Wallace

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/outlaws-in-winter-pass/