There she is, stalled at the top of the big falls,
relocated during a particularly rainy season
a couple of years ago.
The Engineer plots and plans
how he can cut it up so it will flow on down,
but I tell him No
and point out how she has become much to many:
Surprise plants and mosses now call her home in the summer.
Snowflakes gather on her back in the winter.
And best of all, she is the grand metaphor
for my writing life
as she sits perched, hovering on the edge.