I can feel us on the edge here
this narrow ridge we’re hiking
it’s thin enough in places
that I’m nearly certain we’ll
topple down the side

But we haven’t yet and
it could be your acrobatics
or mine
that’s got us still balancing
in an act a professional
tightrope walker
would balk at

We’re daring though
and the view from up here
so far is breathtaking
and the thrill of chill wind
against our faces
exhilarating

The peak not yet in sight
shrouded in soft white fog
that was forecast to disappear
by noon
instead it’s rolling down the side
thickening and reaching
for us

Our view goes white with gray
eddies loosely defined
interludes of curling air
the pebbled ground slowly fading
so we clasp our hands together
it’s less stable but
comforting
as the mist swirls between us

Soon there’s nothing
no outline
the last wisp of your hair
is gently consumed
into this vaporous world
where only a touch
obstructs
surreal isolation