Treasure Island

Shawn McAllister

(January 22,1944 / San Antonio, Texas)

The Waterfall


mountainous rock buried in snow, frozen
water catching the flow of
summer dreams too young to die, leaving
the endings dissatisfied; chirping
crickets formed their nests, nestling
hidden in my lobes, hatching
a memory of not long ago

now we’ve returned to city streets, children
sparingly scattered through the parks, afraid
of winter’s concrete glow;
sitting
in reverie last Friday night, thinking
summer thoughts, I thought
of you and the waterfall and my mind
wandered a moment or two, recalling
leaves against your breasts, rolling
where snow and ice now rest, musing
contented on unwilling endings, longing
again for a moment ago, a love
lost in a summer breeze, until
you spoke, reminding me
the summer winds continue to breathe
their warm breath on us

tucked away from the august mountain, buried
safe from the cold and ice, believing
the eyes that will see, not knowing
Wallenpaupack’s waterfall, discover
a little bit of you and me, and
a bigger piece of us
next summer

Submitted: Sunday, August 17, 2008
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