Niagara Poem by David Harris

Looking through a photograph album
taken over a decade ago
I stopped at a photo
of the misty spray of Niagara Falls.
Staring at it I drifted inside
this time capsule of that decade.
I stood by the railings peering over
to watch the waters crashing down
and listening to the rhythmic hiss
from within the mist far below,
while watching The Maid of the Mist
disappear within the falling waters
as they dashed down to the bottom
and the water waiting to greet them below.
As I turned away and looked around
at the sea of faces,
all of them strangers to me.
Yet I wondered if
in another time and place
our paths would cross again?
That is something I may never know.

14 June 2014

(Authors Note:
While talking to a friend Cathy Hodgson online she suggested I write this poem.
As it transpired it is possible that she and her family were at Niagara Falls
around the same that I was there with my family. Hence the last lines of this poem.)