April Snow in Niagara Falls

Driving through Niagara Falls yesterday, too cold to take in the thunderous beauty of the falls, just enough time to take a couple of pictures.

Ice floes were floating on the Niagara River, a puzzling view of what may come next - spring, fall or winter, all collapsed in one?

The wet snow and overcast skies made me think of one of my short poems, "An invitation to Niagara Falls."

Every time I approach the falls, it occurs to me that I experience a unique performance, a grandiose event of geological proportions, to which I must have been personally invited. Hence the title of the poem.

Here is the poem in question. Published here -> https://niagarapoetry.ca/2021/02/14/moga/

An Invitation to Niagara Falls

I — Experiment

The mushrooming sound of waters, spores, and eddies oozing up towards the fog

— an insolence

that defines us.

We are mired in the gurgling of the falls.

Nothing speaks of the evening

yet we appear to be in the midst of its hyphae.

II — Granite

Rocks — granite and dark quartz, glitter in the riverbed.

Water randomly concludes harmonics of the second order:

grass plotting a poisoning

in the straits of the narrowing waterway.

III — Inside the Barrel and Across the Falls

Padded with gills,

the blowball of the water

speeds past us enmeshed in fuzzy tendrils.

A falsehood of colors reflects

the one-size-fits-all roar of the river,

its course shaping

a finer, more irregular death of its meaning.

___

Irina Moga is an award-winning Canadian writer.

#niagarafalls #Canadianpoetry