I thought of you as a nation.
Savage seas,
waves rolling from a raging storm.
You were warm and moist,
as temperate as the climate.
The scent of wet moss.
As dank and foreboding
as the rummages of the bleak landscape.
You inspired, to tire.
Forever you went.
Overwhelming the senses.
To be.
To see.
You were the blanket
hiding to reveal.
The mist, a shroud…
