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I wish I was this special type of shallow.

To loiter in a simple world that waterbends

to your crevices waves

upon shore like a godsend,

a dream come true.

Atlantis has always been at our fingertips.

Harmony can be found in ponds meditating

miles into the backwoods of our towns.

We all choose to skip stones

and experiment with the water tension

that forms a transparent portal.

Easy access whirlpools an endless gesture

between Earth and heaven.

Be a koi that snorkels our planet:

feetless, graceful,

and with a hint of mystery.

"Shallow Atlantis" -P.J.C.

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"Is This How Art Should Feel?" -P.J.C.

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"Ms. Indigo Irises & Mr. Honeysuckle Eyes" -P.J.C.

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Here above is a drawing Google surmised

when the term "November" came alight

in this scavenger hunt for wintertide emblems.

Details present on the porous shells make cracking

skin cursed by arid breeze feel desirable.

Swallowing stones: a sensation to describe

the yawning ache of sore throats

feels worthwhile when imagining

the silkiness of drawn pebbles

on that artist's sketchbook.

Artists with an eye to oversee flurries

should be the illustrators of colder seasons

for the pessimists who cannot.

"November Stones" -P.J.C.

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"House on the Marsh" -P.J.C.

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"Winter is Wonderful." -P.J.C.

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