Little Beauties
I cannot leave the beach
without pockets full of little beauties:
an intricately striped and weathered rock,
a soft lavender shell,
a sand dollar.
my windowsills are overflowing
with gifts from the sea
in delicate rows,
in delicate rows,
each shell and stone inviting more dust to come and stay.
but I cannot let them go,
leave them amidst the seashore sands
when their beauty grasps at my irises
with such persistent power
as if filling my pockets
with these pretty earthen trinkets
will fill the wanting
when I lean over the ocean waters
to see my reflection staring forth
instead of only decorating my windowsills
and letting dust fill my lungs.
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