Geirangerfjord
Look, a waterfall
we said tonelessly on the seventh
day of our trip, passing
another fabulous natural display
as if it were ordinary,
like during an afternoon
at the art museum
when we’ve been there so long
that one masterpiece
starts to look pretty much like
another, our eyes and brains
full, no room for any more wonder
until after we get a chance
to drink a glass of water,
brush our teeth at the tap,
contemplate the inside of our eyelids
dreaming, feel of
falling, sound of splashing
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Editor’s Note: This poem seeks to stitch together the wonder of beauty, art, and nature with our inability to truly experience its majesty because even the extraordinary becomes normal unless fought for.
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