Seaside Ceremony by Sandra Ervin Adams
I select three shells, small and shiny, carry them to a dry spot, set them aside. Cross-legged, I write in sand, a five, a six, my new age. In the center I fit the shells together.
Fingers of sun warm my arms, head, face. No trace of trouble here, I close my eyes. Clear water washes the edge of the beach. A white gull watches. At one with sun, sand, and sky, I leave my shell behind.
(Published in New River High Tide, Council for the Arts, 2008, and They That Go Down to the Sea, 2010, Old Mountain Press)
Return to:
|