The River Bank

The River Bank...



He walked down the narrow path to the river's edge.

It was the spot he remembered so well, it was their spot.

They often came there to be alone. To share a moment in time, away from they're past, wishing for the future.

The riverbank told of stories of childhood dreams, playful wishes and growing desires.

At one end the shallow water flowed rapidly across the rocks, at the other, a rope hung from an old tree branch over where the water grew deep. If you listen carefully to the wind, you could almost hear the laughter of the children who once came there to play.

Just as the trees reflect across the mirrored surface as if two worlds survived at the same time, separated only by the gentle summer breezes. Their souls reflected across each other separated only by the time they could not spend together.

She was always there believing in the person that he wished he was, always believing in the person she always saw.

It was she that always said he had showed her what true Love was, but it was her that showed him his heart and it was her that created his soul.

She was there before he realized his love; she was gone before he realized his need.

He picked up a rock that was laid at his feet and for a moment he rolled the rock through his fingers and felted it's weight as he held it tight.

A tear ran down his cheek as he stared into the river.

He took the rock and threw it into the river and watched the mirrored world quickly disappear.

As the rings grew steadily wider, he slowly turned and walked back up the path.


Daniel C. Gillett
May 2002