Mistaken

You are not who I thought you were.
I spotted you from a hill in the distance
The picnickers in the grass pointed in your direction
As they described you with many a tale,
All sworn to be true.

The shadows and the haze
Nestled between us.
Turns out my vision is very poor.
You are not who I thought you were
Or hoped to be.

Your silhouette turned out to be granite,
And throne, a mound, hugging your grave.