Chain
Crystal clear ribbons of water
choked with death
the end has come, yes
Oh, but the seed, the seed!
near rocks, in crevices, by stones
already tremulous with the promise of life;
The fry, backwards will trace their parents' struggle
to the ocean, to feed and grow until one day
qua adults, they will return
to the same, clear, ribbon of death
from whence they came