Thursday, December 2, 2021

Tallulah Falls (George Cooke), Sonnet #592


 












Evergreens cling to rock,

Which guides the waterfall —

Rising mists lave the trees.

Nowhere signs of a clock.

All durations stall.

Even the storm clouds freeze.

Earth’s stand-in is a ledge

Where men peek at the edge

In awe less of grandeur

Than such immensity.

How do we still endure —

Motes of infinity?

When all such cascades stop,

Gravity will drop.



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