What Froze Up Must Falls Down

All that water, over-flowing,
Nothing hinders it from going,
Flowing o’er the precipice,
Tumble, rumble, roar, and hiss,
Ever falling, never fallen,
Swilling, swirling, swelling, swollen...“Yours till Niagara Falls.”

Clement climate cannot last;
Polar vortex blusters past
Leaving in its frigid wake
Whitened landscape, solid lake—
Normal life for Buffalo.
Meantime up the river, though...“You’re still, Niagara Falls.”

Streets but tunnels through the frost—
See the sights but don’t get lost:
Letchworth’s ice-volcano-fountain,
Skiers schussboom every mountain,
Sun and snowman coexist,
Massive ice-cakes made of mist...“Yours still—Niagara Froze.”

Warmer breezes, though, will come—
March we then to springtime’s drum:
Sunshine may again be warm,
Liquid water be the norm,
Wren and robin venture back,
Then we’ll hear the ice’s crack...“Yowzers! Niagara Fell!”

                                                     —AnoniagarA. Mouse