On Visiting Lost Waters ~ prosery

/ Ken Gierke / rivrvlogr

On Visiting Lost Waters

It was his heart that took him away, but his heart still missed the waters flowing through a canyon of green that would explode with color when the first frost found its home in leaves that could bring light to the grayest day.

Trails that bordered the rim of the majestic gorge and paths that descended to follow the shore of the winding river had called to him often over the years, and many were the times he had answered that call.

But love had taken him to a distant place, and years had passed since last his footsteps had fallen in this forest, since his eyes had seen the splendor of the river’s descent, and his face had felt the mist rising from the falls.

Sadly, with these thoughts on this brief visit, he knew these memories were left here with the trees.

Prosery is a form devised at dVerse, and the challenge is to write a piece of flash fiction with a 144-word limit (144 words, here). Included in the bit of prose is to be a complete line from a poem. With Prosery: Memories with the Trees from Merril, the line to be included is “These memories were left here with the trees” from Joy Harjo’s “How to Write a Poem in a Time of War.”  While that poem speaks of the lost or stolen beauty of a homeland, my piece describes Letchworth State Park, a place I often visited when I lived in Western New York (revisited this past week).

Image
Middle and Upper Falls – Genesee River at Letchworth State Park, Portageville, New York
~ left: 09 Sept 2019 & right: 19 Oct 2010 (note the old train bridge in 2010 photo) ~
(click image for larger view in new tab)

33 thoughts on “On Visiting Lost Waters ~ prosery”

    • 🙂 Thank you, Merril. My last time at Letchworth was the March before I moved, in 2012, and everything was covered in ice. It was the one time my wife had seen those waterfalls, and I knew I had to take her there last week, when we were in the area. It’s 65 miles southeast of Buffalo, and not exactly on the direct route home to Missouri, but it was well worth the detour. As much as I love the colors around Columbus Day, any time of year there is great

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  7. I, too, have a favorite gorge that I once visited often. Now with my disability, I cannot climb down the ropes any more to the river below; yet I can, and still do, in one of the chambers of my memories.

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