Much like my short story "The Angel and the Naiad," this poem is only half fiction. Somehow the Green River always seems to play a role in whatever emotional trauma I'm experiencing at a given moment. But you know the old saying: When life gives you emotional trauma, make an absolute BANGER of a poem.
The Price I Chose to Pay
Her home was on the river road
Which flanked the emerald flow.
And often I would spend the day
(For that was the price I chose to pay)
With rod and net not far away
And hope to wave hello.
At times, I heard her harping
Through the summer evenings long,
And lovely notes of music play
While teardrops touched the grass and clay
(for that was the price I chose to pay)
In tandem with her song.
The autumn leaves were falling
When I walked up to her door
With salmon I had caught that day
(for that was the price I chose to pay)
And heartfelt words I hoped to say
And mean forevermore.
She answered, looked out slowly,
With her hand upon the latch,
Then suddenly said, her fiancée
(Oh! What a price I chose to pay!)
Would love to come and fish someday
So thank you for this catch.
At times I walk the river road
But never linger long.
For ever since that costly day
the river's joy has washed away.
For that's the price I chose to pay
And I was never wrong.
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