From the Beach

From the Beach

The child wanted to bring back prickly come-and-go foam,
A yacht and the horizon it slid along.
After a little rage he settled for a dead crab and a feather.

The grandmother selected a perfect scallop shell,
Capable of holding the ocean in its pearly scoop,
Full of past and future gilded beach days with the boy.

Back in her courtyard he laid his loot in his dump truck
And covered it with sand and stones.
Brrrrm. Vrrrroom. Brrrm.

She placed the shell on the dresser
Then turned it over. Much better.
The rust red corrugations satisfying as an iron roof.
*nonameT on beach


2 thoughts on “From the Beach

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