Seashells
I wanted to show you my seashells this morning;
I put as many as I could find in my pockets,
So many that the seams burst trying to hold them in.
They spilled from my pockets, the tiny shells,
I didn't know, they left a trail, all along the beach,
I wanted to save them, but the tide swept them all back.
They floated on the surface, capping the waves
With broken cherry blossoms and violets.
Even now, I can still smell the salty scent in my pockets.
I breath in deep and think of them.