My Highest Cliff

It was bright enough to melt the sand

to turn each grain into liquid glass.

My fingers sift through the gelatinous shards

and watching it fall into moldless dust

I find my inspiration for a backbone.

I undressed my upper half to show the world

that I’m an alien, my belly button curves in and out

just like the mountains and valleys of the beach

as seen by the humble sand crab

and the dominating seagull.

My browning freckles indentify my shard.

Away from mountains and valleys

of beaches and predators

my associations

fall between aliens and fowls;

we can all fly, but do I have proof of their wings?...

indications of their abilities to mold my sifted glass

to form a precious mountain?

With no proof, there will be no hiking today.

My mountain is solemnly surrounded:

tufts of mist to moisturize.

The skies will force an opening

and give entrance and serenity to

my highest cliff.

-Grant Durando