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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=415261" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Rip</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=415261" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">It can't be the passing of time that casts<br>That white shadow across the waters<br>Just offshore.<br>I shiver a little, with the evening.<br>I turn down the steep path to find<br>What's left of the river gold.<br>I whistle a dog lazily, and lazily<br>A bird whistles me.<br>Close by a big river, I am alive in my own country,<br>I am home again.<br>Yes: I lived here, and here, and my name,<br>That I carved young, with a girl's, is healed over, now,<br>And lies sleeping beneath the inward sky<br>Of a tree's skin, close to the quick.<br>It's best to keep still.<br>But:<br>There goes that bird that whistled me down here<br>To the river a moment ago.<br>Who is he? A little white barn owl from Hudson's Bay,<br>Flown out of his range here, and, if he wants to,<br>He can be the body that casts<br>That white shadow across the waters<br>Just offshore.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=James+Arlington+Wright">James Arlington Wright</a></strong></div>

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