Seashells After the Storm
I, Anne, stand on the shore
collecting seashells after the storm.
If the luster and sheen
in the lines and shapes
scattered in the sand
and crafted in the shells
Have a story to tell or
a message for me
It is gone, now, splayed
through the waves,
the sea,
the sky...
That half-shell sky where last he flew.
And me, here, on the other half,
like the shells on the shore.
I collect my life, after the storm.
December 30, 2011
