The Seashell

November 3, 2011
By Anonymous

Tumbling through the water,
wet fingers pull me back



and forth
Moving with the flow


of the ocean
Upsidedown

sideways

rolling and rolling
I'm meditating quietly
My senses are dulled


The days run together

as I'm carried every which way
And I sigh, content


Simplicity
The tumbling quickens

I spin round and round


uncomfortable
Have I reached my destination?


The water washes up

over the sand,
then pulls back


without me
Lodged in the warm,


sunbaked sand,
I lay drying


alone, waiting
for something to happen


Similar Articles

JOIN THE DISCUSSION

This article has 0 comments.



SciArc

MacMillan Books

Aspiring Writer? Take Our Online Course!