My eyes weighed with grieve;
like a sinking stone in water,
I sat down to weep by the river.
What would be of those tears
once downstream in the ocean?
Will the heart feel cleansed?
I saw the ocean swelling upriver
cutting through the belly of trash
wishing it were the mountain snow.
Downriver the fish gasped for help—
their only home now a pit for plastic.
Would I still cry or scream for them?
At the borderline of land and water
a heart-breaking reality came to surface
the ocean seeks my sorrow as its water.
