Wednesday 20 June 2012: Shell Seekers.
Shell Seekers
A Pale half moon
Lies buttonholed
Against the morning sky as I
Walk quietly along the shore
Between the sounds of waves
Lapping gently at my feet
And gulls chattering overhead
Jaded as I am by many other trips
To summer shores, I
Scan the mounded piles
Arranged by foamy breakers overnight
Choosing only perfect shells
Of sunset hues
Undamaged by the crashing surf
That cast them there
And yet, who really chooses - Is it I
Or these frothy salt waves
That rush between sand shod feet
Like impatient givers of gifts
Perceiving a lack of appreciation
And taking back
Those for which I pause too long
Cynthia A. Conciatu
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