At the River's End

High up on towering snowcapped peaks
on the Western rim of Two Gorges range,
streams of water cascade and fall in ribbons
curving and carving a winding path down
into convergence on the sunken valley floor.

The rugged treelined bank of the river
adorned by the fertility of foliage and fauna
outline an intricate design of a river’s path.
The topography of which is entirely unique
for the span of its 44-mile downward run.

The essence of its fluidity, the body of river,
it changes over so much distance and time.
Rustic boulder crags and marshy meadows
choreograph the tempo of the water
from rapid rushes of current into soft gentle laps.

The river plays host to an abundance of life.
All of which rotate in cycles of birth and death.
Tadpoles fend for themselves in pockets of shallow water
until they loft up on newfound legs to grassy banks,
innocuously becoming prey for hungry avian predators.

By the estuary where the river and the ocean meet,
four slow footfalls creak on warped wooden planks.
The woman’s eyes cast down to mask a well of tears.
She spoke the truth, trying not to choke on the words:
“It’s metastasized; it’s everywhere…."

The man on the pier paused midstep to catch his breath.
The scope of the landscape appeared to abruptly give way.
His gaze followed the line of the narrow riverbed
as it fanned out in layers onto a broad sandy beach
to rest on the horizon break, from ocean to open sky.