Slice of Life Day 4: Rust to Grey

 

Toccoa Falls

Rust to Grey

I think sometimes about that deep canyon,

tucked away copper below the soft mountain,

where the water plunges 150 feet into a pool of somber granite.

Observers come to perch on nearby boulders

like spectators at a rocket launch.

Forty years ago, after torrential November rains, an earthen dam above this gorge collapsed and 39 people were washed away to their untimely death.

Most were children.

A monument nearby lists their names.

I wish them peace;

their small bodies will not know this modern world.

The shaded stones hide the sullen secret

and life, like the flow of water, regenerates.

Yet, a pungency does penetrate this place,

like a stinking corpse lily in a solarium,

like rust fading to grey.

I feel it through my lens.

6 thoughts on “Slice of Life Day 4: Rust to Grey

  1. At the start, I expected this poem to be about the natural beauty but it became so much more complex when it led to the deaths of the children. My emotions crumbled at the thought of those lost children. Beautifully written.

    Liked by 1 person

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