S(c)een(e)

 A spiral shell lays empty in the sand

Waiting to be picked up,

Naked and wanting for

The push of the ocean- The pull of the tide,

(don’t rush this).

 

Incoming footsteps are erased

By laps of water

As a little girl trudges ahead                   

With a camera, finds her and

Holds her up to the sun-

Capturing all her shapes and colors,

 

And lays her back down,

Into the water.