What type of water are you?

NaPoWriMo Day Twenty-One

I. 

Tide pool

is for when

you're feeling isolated

and temporary,

but perhaps also

more interesting

than usual, on account

of all the new things

you learned

scrolling Instagram

this morning.

II. 

Strait best applies

to very specific

circumstances, but also

to far more 

varied happenings

than you might think - 

it is the catch-all

of nature's maritime

dividing lines, 

not quite unique

at all. 

III.

You might consider

lagoon for those moments

when a barrier

feels appropriate, 

such as

if you'd prefer

that Alex from

three cubes over

not share the stories

of his inauspicious

romantic enterprises

at 8:24 in the morning.

IV.

If the heaviness

of mankind's

myriad misadventures

begins to chip

your armor, 

perhaps canal 

would not be 

the appropriate choice - 

best not

to dwell on it

any further. 

V. 

In the mood

to mingle?

Then estuary

fits the bill - 

intertwining

disparate realms, 

in a way that 

feels productive

and natural.

But be warned, 

such machinations

are often fragile. 

Pincers

NaPoWriMo Day Nineteen. Off prompt.

Depth is felt

best by those

who have already

been crushed - 

and now, 

all the more ready

to catch another

in the vice grips, 

like an enormous

crustacean, 

presently reddening

in the pot, 

eager to share

its buttery grave. 

The Rockies

NaPoWriMo Day Sixteen

Maybe you can imagine

one deafening crash

after another, and another, 

the movement of two or more

boundlessly large objects 

grappling in violent collision.

Maybe you can see now, 

in the space where these objects

were once peacefully separate, 

skyward growth, sharp and

treacherous, towering over

entire continents that surround it. 

Maybe you can hear

how quiet it's become since then,

how only the leylines of the wind, 

the hiss of ever-falling snow, 

and sparse traffic of humanity 

now intersect upon it. 

Maybe if I idle here - beard frozen, 

skin dry - for silent eons enough, 

these peaks will speak to me. 

Buried treasure

NaPoWriMo Day Fifteen

Love is
a cast iron vessel
left empty

a time capsule
buried 

wherever you think
only one intended person
will look
sealed to
outlast generations
of feckless weirdos

Turns out
the weirdos have
metal detectors