Pale Rider Poem by James Walter Orr

Sometimes you make yourself invisible.
It seems for weeks you keep your wit away.
Then it seems the world has worked you over,
And given you a Dylan kind of day.

Sometimes then, your voice is somewhat harsher,
Than maybe manners might at times require.
Other times it seems your aspirations
Can only be achieved by showing fire.

One phrase you have framed where I take issue,
And if I'm wrong, then may we burn this rhyme.
Here, it's never been the same without you,
Not yesterday, today, nor any time.