Among the children picking up shells,
she combed the sand for bits of sea glass.

Carefully rifling through colors
from Mosel green to yellow amber,
she considered each earnestly,
hoping to discover the perfect tint
in which to view the world.



An old woman who had never seen the sea
cherished a spotted shell.

At night, when the world was shadowed and quiet,
she would cradle it against her ear
and sway to the whispering surf.

Her mind floated, aloft
on warm waters
the color of topaz.