Appear. Appear, who cares how, appear.
We are the last of those who wait for you —
Out of those who waited for you — each year
The numbers lessening, down to we few.
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It took me a while but I finally got it. The poem is a tribute to Hank Williams’ When the Pale Horse and His Rider http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v3XJ0FFr_a8
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