Cliffside

By Daniel Bethke

Cliffside Sunset, Jessica Hamilton.

The happy moon beams, and the crests hug the beach.

Beyond and beneath, no expedition has dared yet reach.

Instead of water, they see steam,

And instead of stars, all but a dream.

The animals here are foreign yet seen,

Their shapes statues

That dance on the green.

Between the pit of fear and the peak of fidelity,

Onward this summit looks with sincerity.

Turning water to stone and stone to sticks,

This firm gaze cannot be missed.

Each wave fears it is but a copy of a copy

Caught between the titans so grand,

Pursuing pleasure with resolve as planned.

I must go there now.

To the coast. And further.

Where the sand becomes shore,

And the prospects seem palpable.

Yes! Then, I shall knock on her door.

Indeed, if given but a mere chance,

I would now… set sail for France.

But if I am destined to wander,

Then, from air to sea,

Content I will be.

Suddenly so striking,

Suddenly so bold,

Never a lie

Have me these cliffs told.