The Cliffs
There were cliffs so high they curved above us
Striped with geology so old, so rich
It had no names, not even those of the
Miners who died in the winding holes they
Dug into the cliff walls, holes to the sky
Rapidly closing as the rubble falls
Behind the miner who looks over
His shoulder, drops his pick, sees darkness fall
And outside, on the cliff face, another
un-named dot appears, revenge of the cliff
There were cliffs so high they curved above us
Striped with geology so old, so rich
It had no names, not even those of the
Miners who died in the winding holes they
Dug into the cliff walls, holes to the sky
Rapidly closing as the rubble falls
Behind the miner who looks over
His shoulder, drops his pick, sees darkness fall
And outside, on the cliff face, another
un-named dot appears, revenge of the cliff
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