The river no longer
passes here regardless
how I ask, I am left
to find my journey
in this dark soil.

Or

The river no longer
passes here regardless
how I pray for it
to return — I ache
for its filthy banks.

Or

The river did not
announce it would
no longer pass here —
would I have prepared
if it had warned me?

Or

The sunset glances
at the river, now long
gone, reflecting off
pools on its dried bed
and me without water.

Or

The river carries off
much more than
water and mud,
casual, persistent,
careless, knowing.

——————
With gratitude again to Leonard Durso for posting a poem by Su Tung-p’o with a title that sparked my imagination (the poem is excellent, too). Unfortunately, instead of a fantastic view or a significant building, I could not get out of my tiny backyard in Chicago. Maybe I will try again.

What would you want to find painted in the wall of a building? And what building would it be?