Fog circulates around ocean
rock formations testing waters
as I stand on top wondering
if fog conceals more rock underfoot;
if ocean lurks to snatch me
out into eternal tide or smash me
head first into a stone face;
if speed plunges me through air
off cliffs towering the mystery
of when gravity stops,
how far below is the landing.
Or do I turn my back?
Allow the fog
to encircle me
like waves around
a boulder
until low tide,
lifting fog
leaves me alone
in solidarity.