The Empty Shell
THE EMPTY SHELL
As waves recede back to the shore
to crash against the rocks once more,
I watch young lovers become whores
who ride the tides forevermore.
O, build protection for the soul
before your heart grows tired and old.
What you take from the sea
like seaweed will leave cuts on thee.
Some walk quickly from the shore
never to return for more.
Speech can be an empty shell
where what is said no one can tell.
The moon grows dark, the sea doth moan.
I walk tonight this beach alone.
Janet Marie Bingham
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