Rendezvous at Crater Lake

We were to make our peace in solitude,
as if the lake of still, chameleon dyes
could be our arbiter of compromise.
Light-headed from the alpine altitude,
I stood close to the brink, at length, and viewed
where distant monster shadows shifted size
and knuckles of red rock approached the skies
until a gust broke off my quietude.
I was still waiting underneath a roof
of pines, past time, was mad you never showed;
you felt stood up, like me, but down the road.
A crater laid between us—vast, aloof.
We left the lake, each echoing the same
contention as before, the other was to blame.