Wind shrieking, rain whipping
Across their face, they can see the mountain in the distance,
Poor souls, forever lost to the world,
Water, longing to feel the warm embrace of skin.
The rock has long maintained its
Position, rising and falling at the whim of the moon,
It was just cresting the surface when it split the hull in two,
It will stay there long after they have withered into its deep crevice.
The look-out was asleep, lying in the
Nest, he did not make it to the stranded crag,
He surely would not have lasted long if he had,
They would not have let him on.
Setting sun illuminates the weathered
Outcrop, shadows of countless mussels and starfish,
The rain has stopped, thick mist swells with potency,
Water is rising above their ankles.
In the first world war, many soldiers in the trenches would develop trench foot,
But that would take far too long.
Far Too Long