life will be a beach

a poem for the end of a summer

Photo Credit: Wikimedia Commons, Manfred Heyde - Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0

people

pick up seashells on the beach

because of the pretty colors and pretty shapes

they put them in small trays

with coins and keys and bottle caps and

glue them together in crafts for kids

but aren’t shells the leftovers—

the houses

the bones

the husks

—of mollusks

dead

decomposed

rinsed up

spit up

in the rising tide?

who will pick up our pretty leftovers

when we’re gone

spit up

rinsed up

by a rising tide 

string them together on necklaces

print them on pretty signs that say

Welcome!

Relax, Unwind, Enjoy!

Life is a Beach!