Submitted by the Poetry Appreciation Group

The Victoria Falls

So hushed, so hot, the broad Zambesi lies

Above the Falls, and on her weedy isles

Swing antic monkeys, swarm malignant flies

And seeming-lazy lurk long crocodiles.

But somewhere down the river does the hush

Become a sibilance that hints a sigh,

A murmur, mounting as the currents rush

Faster, and while the murmur is a cry

The cry becomes a shout, the shout a thunder

Until the whole Zambesi waters pour

Into the earth’s side, agitating under

Infinite spray mists, pounding the world’s floor.

Wrapped in this liquid turmoil who can say

Which is the mighty echo, which the spray?

 Muriel Spark

1948