the small ribbed shell
a scallop i think
sits in the sand
long abandoned by its
owner
the sand on many beaches
whitesoft under the foot
are nothing more than
the groundup remains
of uncounted shells
just like this
one
and how can we say
we are different or better
when we too are sand under foot
of some later
traveler
Tag: shell
Poem 20151028
i saw a film once
a documentary
about someone making
a canoe out of a log
they hacked it with an axe
and burned the inside
with red, smoking coals
smoothing out the shell
when it had cooled
when it had been emptied
and i thought
what a strange way
to make a mirror
Words and Feathers 