Skip to content

Log Out

×

Poetry

Then the river
I hadn’t found

held the rivers I had
ransom. I knew

I wouldn’t find it.
I would leave

where I wanted
to stay. I was

convinced we pay
no other price.

Then the river
I hadn’t found

held everything I had.
The way belief

holds proof
so we forget.

I could hear
the sound of water.

I thought
it didn’t matter

if I never found
what made it

until I left.

Image depends on its subscribers and supporters. Join the conversation and make a contribution today.

+ Click here to make a donation.

+ Click here to subscribe to Image.


The Image archive is supported in part by an award from the National Endowment for the Arts.

Related Poetry

Border Report

By

Lia Purpura

Advent

By

Katharine Coles

Sunrise Insomnia Service

By

Bruce Beasley

Fat Tuesday

By

Dante Di Stefano

Receive ImageUpdate, our free weekly newsletter featuring the best from Image and the world of arts & faith

* indicates required