I had a river, and I thought it was mine. It was a bright morning, and I joined the sun. I said: Come with me, bright dragonfly, And drift in my currents like a whirligig. I had a river, and now it flows. And I am here… limb-heavy and daring. The sun is a beacon in my hands. The river was once mine, and now it is all theirs. For a bright mourning, I joined the sun. My river flows for them, not me. But I still trace its banks with longing.

           – From "The River"

• Annie Dillard