he brings them home
from the school
playground
a coastal town
we are
and the school is not
seaside
but these shells
managed their way
to his recess yard
only six years old
and he espies
these tiny slivers of
sea
during play
patterned and scalloped
in exquisite fashion
muted colours that only the sea
can harvest
gray
beige
charcoal
crème
eggshell
they clitter and clatter
tinkling sounds
when gathered
and, they have brought me
a poem
the sea knows
poetry
Annie Kiyonaga
2002
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