The Attraction to Niagara

Some of them envied the Great Farini,
walking the tightrope, outdoing Blondin

with somersaults, headstands, hanging
by toes. Because to scale or jump

the short wire fence to float
to the falls’ edge means brinkmanship

is close, or hope, at least, to lead the news—
imagine all those children

terrorized, clutching their parents, who look away.
It didn’t have to end this way

they’ll say, shaking their heads,
while stuck in the retina, the killer view of the gorge,

marks another spectacular denouement,
a life surrounded to nature, or a final attempt

at ease. I remember the rush to judgment,
my eyes tracing the railing, no guards

on duty to protect this poor excuse
of a border—settled/wildness, life/death—

but whose job is it to keep another
from themselves? Are we not here

for the lore? Two to three a month go over,
the guide says, adding that against all odds,

a few of them have lived.