The River

The river slowly flowing Under the wobbly, wooden bridge, Two feet above the clear, sparkling water, Ten years ago. Now, the murky, Contaminated with Dirty baby diapers, Broken sandals, Empty soda bottles, And sharp beer cans, Water surging down the steep waterfall. At the bottom, All the accumulated trash Brings the river sadness. No more fish swimming, No more children laughing, No more gossip from older women doing laundry No more happiness. Life around the sullied river Continues busily, as the Men hard at work Chopping wood for the long winter ahead, Women boiling water for a bath, Little boys taking the chopped wood into The shed tediously, Little girls pouring boiling hot water Into the tub, splashing scorching water Everywhere. Everyone, including the polluted river, Is cheerless with No joy in the eyes of the people In the small village of Rasinari.