Deep at the end of adventure day
And snuggled into down on the
Expanse of the last hotel bed.
It’s like violets in a field during summer
Somewhere like she imagines Canada
Could be in warm months.
Winter leaving patches of snow behind
Putting skiers into constant lament
Over their cups of hot cocoa
But leaving mystery in place for the rest
Seeing that last icy section on the walk
Where pathways aren’t kept and any
Step could be dangerous,
Eyes glued on the falls and breath fogs.
Upward and swirling from the mouth
Of her lover as she can think just to
Kiss him but joins him instead
Their breath becomes part of The Falls.
Moisture. Cloud. Snow flake. River.
Niagara Falls. Water churning, bracing
Cold, spraying, delighting her.
A sigh escapes her lips
And she snaps her last photograph.