Cliff faces do not like the word ‘sheer’
Especially those who are afraid of heights.
One day, you are a rising upland,
a grassy ridge overlooking vales and hills
that roll gently toward the distant sea
And the next, the distant sea has crept up
behind you. A crack, an ice-pick
into the skull of your nearest and dearest
and there you are, thrust to the fore,
up to your knees in stinging foam.
Don’t look down. Keep your eyes fixed
on the horizon. Ignore the squealing,
dizzy flight of gulls. The squalls,
the gales that smack, the nails that scratch.
An era or two and you’ll get used to it.
Even come to enjoy your position. Looked up to
and admired, surveyed and photographed.
Until, when you least expect it, the earth sighs,
a fractal blip, and you sheer away into the sea.
Today, a proud headland, tomorrow, oceanography.