waterfall

Another Waterfall Poem From Last Year

3, 6×6, Waterfall

I got a cold last night
crept up on, I crumbled
fell in hot and coldness
under the sheets – time crawled
now, I sit on the wall
and watch the first lacewing

The light – diffused through cloud
low, heavy, though not damp –
stutters off its wings, fast
so it looks, to ill mind
and its machinations
to flutter in and out

of existence, an x
drifting from stone, to flow
blinking. Variables
sparking from the lack-dark
of a barely there head
and crackling eye-nerve knots

Some More Waterfall Poems

2, 7×7, Waterfall

What blood of the land is this
that surges over stone, steams
over a thin film of light
the river’s wrapped in, rippling
what hidden force vomits it,
lurch from dark of reflection
crawl under the hot sun sprawl

Its brown gold gleam is not seen
even scalding caramel
boils darker, and slower. Here
the froth bangs and scatters. There
all the deeper brown darks drag
dead branches across fathoms
where speeding rapids disperse.

–

Waterfall, 4, 6×3

By virtue of water
dark ink flows from my pen,
feathers float by – also

the sound of the air fills
with that relaxing spray
and constant tear-shiver.

Last night pins and needles
struck me body lengthwise
to calm after the drive.

But now that same water
is a different shape
shields me from sun with noise

4, 3×8, Waterfall

A myth can happen anywhere,
yes, even here where the black weir
constant as evaporation

As constant as the bird-song thrall
never lets up, always pouring
dark and when the weir is eaten

Still its constancy will shatter –
when all and the weir go up, splat
in the suns final inferno

Thunder out into space and pour
in a wall of material –
Stars won’t know what to make of it