|As I write this, I cannot believe that|
River has been gone for four years.
Sometimes I catch myself thinking that he is still here,
and I then realize that I am sadly mistaken.
I cannot express in words my feeling on his death,
but I have found a poem that does.
And as I gazed with dazzled eyes,
a gleaming smile lit up his lips
as his bright soul from its eclipse
went flashing into Paradise.
Then tardy Fame came through the door,
and found a picture - nothing more.
River will always remain in my heart.
|Elizabeth Chase Urban - Saratoga Springs, New York,
December 17, 1997