The lone moonbeam finds its way
Through the high fog,
Masking the tops of the firs
Lining the shoreline past the dock.
We wade together, not silent, but with hushed tones.
I with my coffee and you, your canteen.
Water lapping the concrete
Invading my thoughts
As we unknowingly step off the shelf
Into the abyss.
I like where you have taken me with these words. This was an interesting prompt and you created a beautiful journey of thought.