Friday, February 13

The Shell

The Shell

Lying on a beach half in and out of sand
waiting for the next wave to refresh.
I gingerly scooped the shell into my hand.

The pearlized beauty of curves and mounds
all pink in the center and hard outside
I held it to my ear to hear her sounds.

The quiet roar of life forever perpetually throbbed
inside her inner core of spiraled time.
This music of her heart could not be robbed.

I wondered
how many would share
the mysteries existing there.
Before someone put her up
upon some shelf.

I wondered
then I smiled.

Tucked back soft into the gritty wave
I hunkered down beside her for awhile.
Then left her so another soul she'd save.


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