#lewis king

These lines may not have been written about Edward Lewis King, Jr., nor for him, but they are of him, I think. Without him, James Dickey might never have found the river, might never have gone on the night hunt: I stand in my own coming sleep, A tall spirit ready to wind LIke a ball of bright thread the wild river All night around the still form That shall lie exposed in the open, Sustained at the heart of the danger I have passed in the thickets this night Which shall keep me safe till I wake And rise, and fall away. Rest in peace, Lewis, the last of the generation of Deliverance, who died on September 12, in Sautee, Georgia.