Wanderer Above the Sea of Fog

Black trench coat, wild hair. 

Dark hat, low over the eyebrows, 

Matches the scuffed boots at a standstill on the rocks. 

The waves look like clouds, 

Frothy crests passing for vapor curling into the air, 

Sea spray almost taken for rain. 

Black gloves on a cane, 

Pointing at wisps of cliffs 

Just visible through the fog, 

Forbidding in their ambiguity, 

Unknown and alluring. 

The horizon stretches on, 

No end in sight, 

Makes it feel forever,

Wreathed by fog rising up and away. 

The black hat stands sharp against the storm-filled sky, 

Stark and unmoving, 

A reminder that forever ends.