Along the estuary of the mighty Snowy river
The laughs of the children at play blast through
The evening ruckus of the crickets
Never disturbing the slow flowing waters
Reflecting the baroque sublime hues of sunset.
The sweet cloying smell of the rainforest
Accompanies one's steps
Amidst the sweet cries of the blue fantails
And the crashing noise on the river bank
Of a disturbed goanna.
The river is there seemingly immutable
Deceivingly shallow encumbered by moving sand banks
Slowing down the mighty current to some persistent ripples
When in fact each drop is transient
Traveling from the spring to the ocean
I, in the time of my watching,
Has already been the witness
Of billions of them rushing to their end.
Can I stop it ?
Like them, I am taken in
The flow of time
Unable to get out
The end is near
I can hear the thumping surf
We have to submit
To the ultimate change
Merge in the aqueous multitude
Before total deliquescence takes over.
Lucette C. Bailliet
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