It’s a twelve hundred foot drop

Or so the sign says

There is merely the waterfall, the emptiness

And then the Aftermath

Yellowstone is full of places like these

The rangers will tell you to never walk with your phone out

The edges have no railings

No protections, not even a flimsy line

Just wet rocks directly in front of you

Colored with lines from ages and monsters past

Slick with liquids and stains

Oil and blood and sauces and water

If you look down–and you will look down

You’ll see the gap, the fullness of it

As though eager to catch you

As though eager to save you

The rising mist raising up to hold and comfort you

You’ll feel the spray on your toes, through your shoes

It’s the only warning the park is legally obligated to provide