Vera Falls

We descend mossy steps to Vera Falls,
where foliage is barely pierced by sunlight.
Midday but the waterfall mist conspires
with the wind, the earth's walls, and the lush leaves,
in weaving cold mountain air around us.
I carry Maleeha against my chest --
right arm holds her, left arm precariously
props on the steel railing -- till finally,
that rumbling cascade pouring on cold spring:
Our last photo; I'm flying end of May.

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