Poem: The River

I was in New York
floating down an endless river.
It was a black river
and the blackness was so deep
I couldn't see anything around me.
Except for little yellow lights
Strung up among trees
on the banks of the black, black river.

And you wanted me
to leave and go somewhere
far, far away with you.
And even though
I hated New York, I loved the river,
and I couldn't leave it and go.