RIVERS AND CANYONS
Copyright Feb. 14, 2012
Gordon Kuhn, Poet in the Rain Productions
All rights reserved.
I don’t know which way to go
When the river starts to flow,
As canyon walls begin to rise,
And I hear my neighbor’s painful cry.
A bottle full of forgetfulness might be a needed share,
It’s temporary pain relief with all its contents on a dare,
While memories and ghosts slip slowly past,
Sharing moments that haunt and forever last
I just don’t know which way to go
When that river starts to flow
As a whirlpool surfaces and draws me ever near
It’s the sadness waiting there that I fear
I crossed this river yesterday, when it was dusty dry,
Laying beneath an open, peaceful, friendly sky;
But now the river has begun to grow,
And emptiness I begin to know.
There is no place left for me to go.
As the water starts to spread in its growing flow.
The canyon walls begin to rise
And clamber for the open sky
I don’t know which way to go
As the river begins to flow
I crossed the path when I thought it safe
Now shadows about me form to drape.
The canyon walls look as brown glass might
When lying next to that which is empty in my sight
And I hear my neighbor’s lonely cry
And I feel so thirsty with a throat most dry
I crossed the river when I thought it safe
But learned the river has no escape
There is no place left for me to go
The water knows and so grows the flow.
And I hear my neighbor’s lonely cry.
