N-1: mountain pond
alongside the muddy pond i see frogs hop and lizards scurry
sensing the unwelcome human addition: the blight
the water calm and still, baking beneath the late day sun
upon a rock, moved by blight-riders past, i can smell the boggy foam
i didn’t bring enough water on this solo trek, but i chance some
i tell myself the trip down will be faster
it’s been years since i was here last and the pond is just the same
but beyond, a most unwelcome addition juts up over the trees
i saw the electric lines on the way up
this is where they were going
to the sizzling building atop the mountain
i imagine why it’s there, truly no one lives here, it’s a national forest
there are no ranger stations around
i ponder some nefarious purposes for that zap-boom structure
secret lazar center: developing military grade attack frogs
a front for some local plutocrat’s sex dungeon
i smile at my own cleverness and chance some more water
the frogs and lizards are waiting for me to leave
they deserve to live their lives unsullied
i retreat down the mountain with stories in my head
unfortunately, the sizzle shack must stay


N-2: ocean home
the sand is cold and wet with morning
soothingly rough against aching feet and hands
the fight was a bad one capped with defense
the drive to get there long and lonely
as the sun rises on a cool autumn day
i can taste a hint of salt and feel the waft of ocean funk
feels like the home i never got to have
part of me hopes the police come and arrest me
trespass, failure, broken heart, take your pick
i embrace the cold 
lay back to watch the dark sky's final retreat
i think of the intimate dance hidden among the waves
whole lives lived in that cold-dark peace
i must resist the everlasting call of the water
i must go back 'home'
i must be


N-3: friendship
on an outcrop of rock
an unknown world stretched small and distant below
unseeable dots living green-surrounded lives
i imagine woodland elves who commune
who do not struggle against the natural world

atop this rock the air is cool and the sun warm
as always, i smile at my little brain stories
the ones that are just for me and so often fleeting
i wonder who is actually down there
who lives in that low green holler

reality sets me on guilty fire
i've been silent and distant for a long long time
my friend smiles, knowing i was lost in foggy thought
this is the nature of a loving friend
present but always forgiving of mental fancy

-LW Joyner