The Ragged River…

I walk with all my thoughts of yesterday

Along the banks of the ragged river,

Just me and my dog and the dying day

Among thoughts of all that hope which never

Kept its promise. And all the while I

Wonder how it is that true love fades.

But then does not all life exist to die?

Does not the sun bow down to evening shade?

Does not all hope that burns so brightly dim

When pressed by day’s ungainly hand of night?

Perhaps it’s not so much of chances grim

But of those for which we surely have to fight.

And so I dare to dream of battles won

In meadows where the ragged river runs.