Waterfall, a poem
We’re silenced by the roar of the water.
The earth pulled from under it,
the stunned spume plummets;
the glassy river
Shattered shards splashing in stutters.
Rocks shine blackly;
White whirlpools swirl and suck
Fresh water into foam and scum.
And descend on even steps cut in stone.
Leaning on the fence, we talk while watching:
immeasurable, drop by pooling drop
eternally weightless before the fall.
Our vantage point allows a clearer view
Of height to depth and where the river goes.
Even rocks erode and leave us falling
And in the thundering roar we are not heard.