Sitting by the River. A poem (iambic pentameter)

“Lookin' back on how it was in years gone by
and the good times that I had
makes today seem rather sad…”

—The Carpenters (Now and Then, 1976)

When I sit by the river all alone
 and wonder where my happiness has gone,
 and feel like I’ve been left by treasured dreams,
 and regret what’s been done and what I did,
 I put myself one step forward in time
 and think how fine it was this day—today—,
 when at least a dear moment was all mine
 and by the river—this river— I sat
 to mourn and to complain about this life.

 When I sit by this river all alone
 and think about good times being now done,
 I listen to my favorite old songs
 but sing to saddest lyrics now once more
 the tunes of elapsed aches and erased gens;
 I join in absent gatherings again:
 lost faces, derailed faiths, forgotten names
 and more I thought my mind had never stored.
 I'm blessed I breathe to live past days once more.

 When I sit by this river to remember 
 a past of melting flakes and dying embers,
 I thank I have this waters to behold,
 which brings me currents new and streams of old.

Free image on Pixabay

Thans for reading poems.