A Mystery I’ve Yet to Solve (poem)

Why do we find ourselves staring at waterfalls as often as we do?


that great timesuck

I can understand

something unfolds

a story

one that’s logical

and linear

but a massive shower cooked up by mother nature

with neither a beginning nor an end?

I’d be hard-pressed to explain the appeal

and yet every other year

over the last twelve

I’ve driven an hour and a half to the very top of a falls

in Mt Shasta

in order to pop out, look down

and then drive all the way back to the warm, dry home

I’ve made with my wife.

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