Pocketful of Hardened Suns
When I think of what to write
often the ocean comes to mind
Endless sea of pretty blue
and stretched out horizon lines,
impossibly flat
Yet when I actually arrive
it isn't the sea that my eyes
take a liking too
Rather it's just below the waves
my mind does go...
...to the little trinkets
beside my toes
Fossils of sea creatures,
alive one - and now, even in death -
you can see the beauty of their features
Seashells of every shape and hue
(even if they're familiar,
somehow they're always new)
Some are inky black or cobalt blue,
creamy whites and nutty browns
(pretty oranges, too!)
Some are hefty like a throwing stone,
others quite miniscule,
blending in with the sand
Some are fragile -breaking easier
than the waves-
others are like a hardened sunrise
Their well defined rays,
my fingers always finds themselves,
unbidden as an eye-blink
(as unthinking as a smile)
I like the clanky sound they make
when lightly shook in a mason jar
I shake them like dice in cupped hands
(loaded, in my case...
I don't gamble with a good time)
Yeah, when it comes to the beach
I'm like a kid at a candy store
My treats aren't in bins,
but glisten on the sandy shore
I scoop them in my hands,
still wet with the sea
Stick them in my pockets,
if the case need be
(and you know it always does
if I'm being honest)
Where it gets me, I don't know,
but, please,
just one more keepsake!
(this simple joy I try to harness)
I pick up a second then a third
while still admiring the first
A dozen or two, is only of mild concern
(a wagon-full is even worse)
Yes
It is an obsession through and through
I could be just as happy with one
as with a thousand
(maybe happiness isn't something
you can attach a number too)
And I don't know why I do it,
treasure to me (but not for thee)
And even rarity isn't an excuse
You can pick them up by the shovel,
they aren't difficult to find
You can count a hundred alone
within arms reach
(maybe joy doesn't have to be rare,
but can be as common as clouds...
maybe it's not something "out there",
but somewhere near,
even to the ground)
Near as an object
lying beside your feet
Near as a thought that came to you...
...while walking on the beach
Copyright © Timothy Hicks | Year Posted 2021
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