There is a river here
and I am on the wrong side, so I'm told
Behind me there is a thicket
rife with blackened stumps, thorns, and carcasses
But here and now, the grass is green
Hyacinths grow in the spring, with a tender fragrance
Honeysuckles bloom and they are sweet
Roses and Lilacs blush as July and August come
There, across, there are peach trees, apple trees,
fruit of all kinds, gardens and gardens
here there are fields and secret glades
I gaze over the river, too wide to swim
I gaze at the ripened pears in bushels
and I long for them, I imagine sinking into them and tasting them on my tongue
But the bridge
appears so rarely,
and
so fleetingly
when it does
I fear to step onto it and cross;
I fear it would vanish beneath my feet, leaving me to tumble into the river
to be swept away, never again to drink the sweet nectar of the honeysuckles
So I remain on this bank, gazing across the river
and when I turn to sip from the sweet bud, however rarely
it is tainted
and I return,
to gaze once again
across the river
**Author's note: Without any personal context I recognize that this poem would be hard to interpret, so I should give a little bit of explanation to the poem so less guesswork is required. It's about homosexuality's conflict with the desire to have a conventional family with children.
