Daredevils have been at the Falls
1812 brought us cannon balls
Laura Secord was dear
Warned British the U.S. was near
Now we fight to get parked at the mall
Blizzard of 77 – Children Waving From the Top of a Buried School Bus Image courtesy of Niagara Falls Public Library
I reach for trusted pen and paper
and commit to writing like old days
When I’d feel the thump of winter boots
and remember youthful school snow days
I keep it tightly inside me like
a favorite song I used to know
I bring a little Niagara
with my top down in San Diego
The west will drive poorly, close their schools
in February droplets of rain
while Buffalo kids wear shorts when the
thermometer hits 30 again
When I eat my kale and quinoa I
ask for Buffalo sauce as I go
I take home some Niagara
eating my way through San Diego
The grocery clerk looks like my aunt
except she wears a golden sun tan
I introduced her to Mexican
when we got lunch from a taco stand
I’d trade this Ralph’s for Wegman’s, give up
eternal sun for a touch of snow
Share Niagara melancholy
with the models in San Diego
A robin in winter-spring backyard
versus a sea lion on the pier
From apple cider Octobers
to grand palm trees, how do you compare?
Somedays I miss a chill that needs a
grandmotherly knitted homemade throw
Somedays I want Niagara cold
to keep me warm in San Diego
‘America’s Finest City’ hopes
it could become a little bit lost
In potholes and in yesterdays
and storied scars that tell of the cost
It could be a crumbling beauty
where family memories could grow
My cataract Niagara world
would keep me glad in San Diego
I bring a little Niagara
to picture perfect San Diego
Author’s note: This is heavily inspired by a song. It’s also something I truly identify with, coming from Niagara Falls and living and loving East coast a lot, to moving, semi officially, to San Diego.
Lots to note from this: I wrote with with pen and paper to start and that’s how the poem begins. Ralph’s is a West coast grocery store, Wegman’s is in the Northeast. Niagara Falls are called cataracts and San Diego’s nickname is America’s Finest city. Buffalo is a neighboring city to Niagara Falls. And finally, my aunt came to visit me and had Mexican for the first time in this taco stand in a gas station (that was well regarded and she loved).
Photo of the Horseshoe Falls, Prospect Point Observation Tower, and the Rainbow Bridge, which inspired this poem. Courtesy of Al Knobloch
The river Niagara flows placidly by
With waters polluted by you and by I
By seeping landfills and chemical pits too
A bane to two countries; historically quite new
But then its pace quickens as tourists arrive
Car fumes rise up to the gulls as they fly
As over the brink suicides take the plunge
While after their cameras onlookers do lunge
In springtime, in summer, and then autumn too
Millions converge on this vast human zoo
The hotels keep rising, no zenith in sight
Parking is crazy, the prices a fright
The Falls is encircled with commercial lust
Most ways of our fathers are left in the dust
Casinos proliferate, lounge lizards croon
Ya gotta admit, it’s a commercial boon
Growth exponential, the Maids multiply
Soon to morph into an endless supply
Now worldwide attention is focused right here
Is it due to the Falls, or due to the fear
Mother Nature eclipsed by human nature alive
“Will he really make it, will he survive?”
Dollars flow in, millions will spy
Still spray reaches up to the gulls who still fly
Oh where is the peace, where is the wonder
The natives sought out before our eternal blunder