Todd Davis offers a powerful poem of listening, reflection, and the natural world.
—
At Buttermilk Falls
Water crosses these hills—snow-melt
followed by hard rain, the water that runs
out of the ground even in the coldest weather.
Water joins other water as it descends, makes
sound as it moves over rock and dirt, over
the bones of trees toppled in strong winds.
Water talks loudest when it leaps from
high places, hollows out the earth beneath it.
Near the falls the boy must lean close to be heard,
the reason his father brings him to this place.
***
Originally published in Some Heaven (Michigan State University Press, 2007)
Editor’s Note: Todd Davis has published several poems with us. Read his work here.
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Photo by Hakon Iversen Photography /Flickr