River

Oh why oh why 
do I keep going 
back to the same 
river bed knowing that 
for a year the 
water hasn’t flowed there
and what once cold 
and clear and filled 
with waves and serenity 
now lays dry and 
barren what oh what 
do I hope to 
find there as it’s 
now not a river 
but a bridge leading 
nowhere I do remember 
coming here when young
and wading through waxy
reeds into thigh-high water 
to catch a glimpse 
of the life beneath 
and yet and now 
nothing not even my 
youthful reflection nay the 
river still reflects now 
the rocks being me