The tide shoulders its way up river

against an opposing wind

Waves rise, spume-headed

as they rush in

like invading Valkyries, hair streaming

in their vengeful wake

My thoughts are like that today, too,

jostling against the previously peaceful flow

Bent on mischief, or worse,

their substance hard as water to grasp

or to repel

Apparently from nowhere

but formed far out in the vast, black ocean

where I do not like to swim