Friday, April 15, 2011

“The Shell”

This small fragile shell, dropped by the sea, marks the end of foolish romance and the beginning of “just friends.”
Cradle it softly in your palm, catch each glistening particle of sand that now flows, ebbs, and descends.

Morning’s tide of gold light caresses castles built of sand,  
while silence enfolds two youths, hand-in-hand.
At water’s edge we lift a precious shell from its place—
as summer softly sighs, we passionately embrace.
Somewhere, between sun set and the changing of the tide,
the folly of our young love began to subside.
We rolled our Levi’s, but they still got wet,
as we ran into the surf, trying to forgive—to forget.

Forgiveness now arrives singing over the horizon
with promises of today and tomorrow.
So, I’m placing this shell among the cushioning clouds;
 it’s yours I’m remembering the love, not sorrow.

Copyright 2011 Elizabeth Abrams

Back in high school, my Biology II class would raise money to pay for weekend field trips to the Texas coast where we gathered and studied marine life. However, we learned as much about our own lives through all night poker games, endless conversations about our hopes and dream, and falling into (and out of ) love. 

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