Anthony Cassano Poet I do not know?

Return To the Sand

Whipping, whisking
   Winter wave
     Cast high on the sand
One shell
   Alone in the night
     Has found its grave

Windy, whirling
   Washing white  
      So small on the beach
One Shell
   Halves stretched in prayer
     No God in sight

Shifting, shimmering
   Scouring sand
     Stripped of color
One shell
   Naked and forgotten
     Is left to stand

Dreaming, Darkness
   Drowsy death
     Its time at hand   
One shell
   Gives to the shore
     Its dying breath

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