not the river into that ocean
eternally flowing, following a path
not of her own but of her ancestor
that i pause in poise to admire
but a struggle of the salmon to spawn
sacrificially swimming swiftly
against the current to lay her eggs
for which i tip my hat
though her end comes swifter
with that greedy grizzly standing in middle
to stop before an upward movement
a new shoal, to the ocean, could swim
