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