Oh, how I long-
to sit at the banks
of that wide river,

that holds so many
of my memories captive,
in its rushing waters

dip my fingers into
the swirling currents
to check the temperature of my thoughts

Lo, I long for those days to come again,
when I could step easily into
the river I now fear,

To draw out what I desire,
the words, the thoughts, the feelings-
like rocks, like fish, like earth,
And pan out the gold.

Pan out the gold to gift to you,
like I used to

But we understand-
the river is now empty,
and gold sinks beneath sand.