I Thought I Had Come To A Wrong River Poem by Dr Ronnie Bai

I Thought I Had Come to a Wrong River

Not the one whose bank I would compete
Against other kids to arrive first at
Amidst the sweet early morning mist,
The gentle vapor of water crystal clear
Twirling and swirling above nodding petals
Of yawning water lily, the air pure and light
With its fresh fragrance, enticing
Large gathering shoals of red river planktons,
The very trophy we would come to collect
With home-made scooper nets
On wire rings and bamboo sticks
For the kissy mouths
Of our glad and graceful goldfish
Wagging their grateful tails for the feed.

I stood stone still searching for the familiar sight
Of ancient willow trees that sentineled
The sloping grassy banks,
Their long trailing twigs dancing above the water
With the early red-golden sunshine
Flickering through their green leaves
And swallows sliding through the scented air
Like ballerinas of the Swan Like.

No, I did not come to a wrong river.
I did not get lost
In the narrow clearing
Of the city's concrete and steel jungle
My old river on its outskirt is lost —
Straight-jacketed by reinforced slabs
Choke-held by thick sluggish slurry
Of excrement from dark hell,
Its iridescence a ghoulish grin,
Its stench a gigantic cesspool,
Knocking me out
Before I could utter a single word.