A river flows in between



A river flows in between
and I don't know how to swim.
Intense is my desire, to pluck the fruit, round yellowish red,
that bore on the tree at the other end.
Here, though many such flower, fruit, and ripe,
but my mouth water for the one on the other side.
Wish, the river may turn dry, 
as it does in the summer;
but till then the fruit may fall, rot & decay.
And I can never taste the difference.
I am planning to build a raft,may be a boat.
But...don't know how to row.
There are many things to learn.
I have to....But the time is short and the fruit is ripe.
It may fall any time.
As no option is open, 
I am thinking to blame the river

"Why it flows in-between?"


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