The last meager drops of water
Tumble into the dust
I see myself tumble into clear waters
Those were the days of my youth, years ago.
And where there was once a confluence of vivacious forms
Lies the bared skeleton of the old lake
Left to bleach in the sun.
When the water left and the fires came
The shining town on the sparkling lake
Left with the wind.
I take a handful of dust,
The ruins of the old town.
The park where I spent my youth, the old café,
All crumble within my hand.
This must be how nature feels
When she sweeps us away,
Fading remnants of lively rivers.
2010 Shasta Bioregion Prize
(Honoring a San Francisco Bay Area Student)
Patrick Campbell, age 17
San Jose, California
The Harker School
Teacher: Jennifer Siraganian