|
3.
|
Andrew, don't cross that river.
Only kings may cross the river
at night.
Only kings may cross the river at night,
and you, Andrew, must wait until the morning.
Standing on the sidelines, stroking your
elephant, you must wait until the morning.
Fifty crescent moons dot the
sky above
Kentucky, and fifty dot the sky above
Indiana, but you, Andrew, must let their
glory pass you tonight. You must watch them
fall from the sky and vanish, like white lines
of soldiers dying from your own mistakes, you
must watch them vanish.
Fifty boys are in Kentucky already,
waiting
for you, Andrew, shifting their weight from foot
to foot, but for now they will have to go on shifting.
Fifty cats are on the river bank, scratching their
fur on the rough river rocks, but for now they
will have to keep on scratching.
And I also happen to be in Kentucky,
sitting
on the river bank watching my own reflection.
But for now I will keep on reflecting, for no
man will be crossing this river tonight, and all
of us, all of us, will be waiting for the morning.
|
|
