MADE OF THE MIST

Maid of the Mist

Maid of the Mist

The air below churns and yearns
to dance in the foamy wake.
It takes a circuitous route
as cascades crash, smashing
against the rocks below. Thunderous
wonder of the world. Your winds
swirl as your micro-droplets
collect. On a boat so close
you can taste Niagara’s mist.
This is the epitome of awe
and wonder. Under the rainbow,
a new world transcends
below the mighty falls,
down where the Niagara River ends.

(C) Walter J. Wojtanik, 2015

For Phoenix Rising July P.A.D. Travelog – Destination: Poetry – Niagara Falls

 

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