Sunday, April 5, 2009


At Bridal Veil Falls,
The goats ate from your hand,
Tongues raspy and wet,
Muzzles velvety,
Bodies covered
In a fine rainbow mist,
Eyes miles apart.
Their desperate begging could be heard
Above the deafening crash of water,
Until one morning winter
Let slip a massive white cavalcade
And erased it all.
The veil had fallen.

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