Image courtesy of Niagara Falls Public Library
Ball bounces to theriver Niagara
swept downstream in torrents of
rushing current thunderous wild
over falling into mist gone
Kept back from theedge mother
clings to my shirtback I scream
loss of ball the worst thing ever
Father tells ofbarrels going over
on purpose on a dare tightrope
stretched acrossraging cold river
My child’s eye blindto such feats
Guinness book but some deaths
Broken bodies barrels swirling
detritus among rocks angry water
thrown up tantrum of white mist
When they dammed thefalls dry
one year we saw wood fragments
dare-devil bones but not my ball
Julie A. Dickson is originally from Buffalo, NY. Her father’s family was from Guelph and Vineland Station, Ontario, Canada in the late 1800’s, they founded the Culverhouse Canning Factory there. Dickson lived near Lake Erie and Niagara Falls until her early teens, when her family relocated to Massachusetts. Always the lakes-girls, her poems often reflect in memories of Lakes Ontario and Erie, and visiting the falls. Her poems appears in many journals including Ekphrastic Review, Misfit, Open Door and others; full length works on Amazon. Dickson has been a guest editor, past poetry board member, is an advocate for captive elephants and shares her home with two rescued cats.
Julie A. Dickson was the guest editor of the Ekphrastic Review challenge to write a poem inspired by Frederic Edwin Church’s painting Niagara, 1857. See a page about ekphrastic poetry of Niagara, including the poems from the Ekphrastic Review
Read about When Niagara Falls Ran Dry