Strange River

There is a strange river behind my village,
It curls and dapples around large rocks,
There are bends and twists unpredictable,
Walking along its bank.
I walked the river to the left,
Found myself among fools,
Then walked it to the right,
Found myself among pleasant folk,
Left this time,
Frothing, angry people, dashing against tree roots,
Right,
Scintillating, bubbling faces, laughing gaily,
Left,
Langorous, liquid and somber, writing elegies in mud,
Right,
Dancing gladly, dappled by rain, spinning whirls,
Left,
Busy, industrius, carving into rocks in angular patterns,
Right,
Bright, shining and sexy, young and rosy,
Left,
Dagger-hearted, self destroying swirls of vicious emnity.
I turned around and went back to the river mouth,
To start again and try the paths a different way,
But they never seemed to change.