Shells

A child
on the shore
combs for sand dollars and snails
empty houses of stone
from the remains of oysters and urchins
where once resided
scallop and starfish
mollusk and whelk
holding a conch to his ear
hears the empty conversation
from what once was inside.

Eagerly approaching the shore empty
on the tides for decades
they float along waves for miles
until they land upon the beach
and become buried
to be collected in pails
where hollowed things
can be pondered
with naïve curiosity
by the child.

And if he looks out to sea
from high posts
on mountains
and skyscrapers
he can see too the shells of women and men
bobbing in and out of the ocean
coasting on the surface of tides with vacant stares
mantles drowning in their drink
moving along waves with empty gestures
bumping into one another aimlessly
cursory meetings
lonely whispers in languishing echoes
voices like wind through a coral cave
waiting with impatient groans
for their time to return to the earth
and be buried in the sand with the pebbles
and the sand dollars and snails
the remains of oysters and urchins
scallop and starfish
mollusk and whelk.