The Shell

I held the shell to my sister’s ear,

Listen – do you remember that sound ?

The second tide is coming in,

There is sand all around.

We were playing at the water’s edge

Where our little feet found

The cool Pacific and tiny shells …

Do you remember that sound ?

 

She clasped the shell to her ear

Held it close, and listened too

For the memory of childhood

The boats out on the blue,

The sandy sun, the peeling nose.

Little hands that only knew

To play and laugh and wonder

She frowned, and listened too …

 

“Yes”, no tears sparked her eyes,

“I remember it all so well”.

She closed the door as she went,

And left me alone with the shell.

 

 

Catherine Broughton