A Ripple in the River

I flung a pebble
straight into the horizon
and watched it skip
on the dead surface
of despondent waters.

I stood on the edge
of the creek,
waiting,
waiting,
anticipating the river
to send back a ripple.

In denial, I scaled
up the mountains
and I struggled
to muster
every
single
breath
my lungs could amass.

I projected a cry
straight into the horizon
and I stood on the edge
of the cliff,
waiting,
waiting,
expecting the sky
to return with a reply…

As I rambled
back down,
I saw a boy
fling a pebble
straight into the horizon.

I stood on the edge
of the choking fog,
wondering,
pondering,
questioning how
the ripple
in the river
ripped my heart
apart
like rumble
of seismic waves
splitting the dead surface
of this despondent world.