Wanderer Above the Sea of Fog
-after Casper David Friedrich
I climb to jagged crags
overlooking churning cauldrons
of swirling green mist and vague mountains
dotted with nameless pines.
I have ascended,
planted my splintered wooden cane
into each moist mossy crevice.
I have ascended,
at times on the backs of others,
a guilty, selfish insurgent.
You only see my worn green coat from behind,
petulant blonde curls
blown by indifferent winds.
My heart facing outward
is the center of this universe,
searching for signs of the divine.
*
Susan Cossette lives and writes in Minneapolis, Minnesota. The Author of Peggy Sue Messed Up, she is a recipient of the University of Connecticut’s Wallace Stevens Poetry Prize. A two-time Pushcart Prize nominee, her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Rust + Moth, Vita Brevis, ONE ART, As it Ought to Be, Anti-Heroin Chic, The Amethyst Review, Crow & Cross Keys, Loch Raven Review, and in the anthologies Tuesdays at Curley’s and After the Equinox.
