Another foray into the lyrical

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