Sitting by the River. A poem (iambic pentameter)

in palnet •  9 months ago  (edited)

“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.



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