I penned this poem at the base of Niagara’s Horseshoe Falls as I clumsily tried to capture the magic of what I was viewing. My hope is that a bit of the power of this place found its way into my verse. Enjoy!
Slow motion transformation, green to white, a miracle before our eyes. Same as when I feel for you, a thousand shooting stars, a million falling moon beams, that voice – whispering. The ephemeral feeling this could be a dream I’m executing. Shy light beams billow, a smoke screen, a waterfall eroding, strong, nonstop, concealing. White curls of wisdom cascade in frothy steam swirl churn and perhaps with gracious luck return reincarnated by clouds to fall a second time. © 2022 | K.Hartless