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Aethal Harrison Poem
Oh Vaquita, Vaquita, the ghost of the sea, so mysterious yet a gentle form,
a gentle form who lives in a Baja home with their crescent smiles.
Yet they hold a silent plea from the Gillnet's snare, while others suffer
from forgotten bycatch all cause by the human hand. Yet they don't stop for the totoaba's worth. Few remain, you can hear the fading sound, as the clock is ticking while the last one call, for desperate hope. The legacy we keep is worth more them gold, the choice to save is most precious, you can feel the ocean tear, while the sea is silent, we must act now. The hope we hold is stronger then most, and our hearts are free then those who hunt, and their sight is clearer than most, they may swim into the sea grass sways in the face of danger, but that what makes them braver then most, so no matter what they will stay strong. Oh Vaquita, Vaquita, the ghost of the sea, so mysterious yet a gentle form, a brave form who lives in a Baja home with their crescent smiles.
Copyright © Aethal Harrison | Year Posted 2025
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