ACROSS THE CREEK
IS THE OTHER SIDE OF THE RIVER
No darkness steps out of the woods,
no angel appears.
I listen, no word, I look, no thing.
Eternity must be hiding back there, it’s done so before.
I can wait, or I can climb,
Like Orpheus, through the slick organs of my body.
I guess I’ll wait,
at least until tomorrow night, or the day after.
And if the darkness does not appear,
that’s a long time.
And if no angel, it’s longer still.
“Across the Creek Is the Other Side of the River” from “Caribou” by Charles Wright. Copyright © 2014 by Charles Wright. Reprinted/Used by permission of Farrar, Straus and Giroux LLC. www.fsgbooks.com