The photo is a lie, too quiet. You
can’t see this without motion, sound,
a smell of water in the air,
and dampness on your skin. Mosquitos
whining, too. It’s their home more than yours.
A steady stream of water pours
and sparkles past the lip of rock
that edges that pool on your left –
then, bored, decides to drip in four,
no, five, twelve wide spaced trickles – wait,
those two have merged…what’s constant here is change.
* * *
This particular waterfall is hidden away in the Laurel Highlands of western Pennsylvania, in a little park, down a muddy trail. I took the picture in May, 2009 while standing on a bridge over the stream that flows away from the base of the falls. But the stone above applies to all waterfalls, doesn’t it?