Meditations on a Seashell

Lichen of the sand, 
bowl of ocean, 
with your sisters 
the spirals, Sword 
and Swirl, protective 
luggage of soft, you 
journey without ticket 
or destination. Siamese 
twin closed in a fist, 
you open to feed. 
Castanets in slow motion, 
playing for no one, dance 
forbidden. Outside the water, 
you fade in sun, chip of 
water’s bone. When you are 
broken into smallest pieces, 
renamed sand, 
you can no longer 
hold the ocean.