Moonbow, Victoria Falls
your eyes make the best cameras
the guide says
somewhat apologetically
he knows how it will go –
a swarm of eager people
staring at the black faces of their phones
blinding each other with impotent blasts of flash
fiddling with ineffective light setting sliders
while chiding the machines in their palms
how can you not see that?
aimlessly pointing at one torrent then the next –
maybe this one is white enough
or maybe an unseeing video would
do at least the sound justice
(played back later,
it is the epitome of white noise)
oh, my awestruck misguided friends
(including me, with my eleven photos
of a seeming void)
if ever there were a time for poetry
the moment’s at hand
dark shaggy forest
moon cooling from ember-orange to frozen white
whisper that turns to deluge
mist alternately brushing your forehead with feather kisses
or spraying your crown with spittle
the pale white arc
so much smoother than all the noisy jets
curving like Diana’s bow
leading your eye straight into
the frothing maw
then dancing ahead next time you watch your step
and that’s just overlook No. 1
of 7 we’ll be traipsing through tonight
breathing in frangipani
turning a misty colonial memory
into treasure the Copperbelt can’t melt
