Mother of Pearl

She wasn't really black no more she'd washed away out on the shore she seemed to be reflected gray, a pearly hue , sunlight at play, like shale or stones up from the creek the special smooth ones that you seek to rub your fingers quiet upon after day is done and gone Silent was she, yes she was, a purpose there without a cause, I wish I'd called her by a name all I know is that she came, and went again out with the tide, I wish I knew the way she died.