Vaquita's Last Swim

Caught in nets that don't care who,
Vaquita's numbers went from many to few.
Once hundreds, now just a handful remain—
A fate sealed, a species we couldn't sustain.

In the Sea of Cortez, not too deep,
They swim where the secrets of the ocean are kept.
Illegal fisherman who don't seem to mind
And leave these gentle souls behind.

They eat fish and squid, and sometimes shrimp,
In a home that's become a deadly limp.
For fifteen years, they've been on the edge,
Teetering close to extinction's ledge.

So hear this poem as a desperate plea:
It's high time we cut the net and set the Vaquita free.