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