Ozark Cliff Limestone cliff, a hundred feet high, Dark-splotched with rain and lichens, Leaning outward in sinister thrust, Raw-faced, rough and unscalable, Looming; like some angry, distant god Glaring down through tops of ancient trees -- Sycamore, oak, massive elm, dwarfed. Ozark cliff, bones of the mother, In your shadow I grew to manhood And in my bones your lesson burns -- Hard and dark and looming -- You massive birthstone / gravestone, shaper of me, Forge of my soul and motive of my blood.