Seashells and Owls' Eyes

The underside of seashells flickers cold colors
Like the blue of a November lake
Green and lighthouse gray, (but for me wholly) the exact-
Yellow that owl’s eyes glitter in the dark boughs of
Peach trees that don’t belong in the woods
In the first place, and it makes me think about
How much I don’t like peaches.

I told you to set your bucket down
Into the sand and to pluck one world,
Rubbing the grit off between two fingers and
You told me that you swore you heard the ocean, still
We both know it was the soft brush of feathers
Hunting for a single russet mouse
To shove into a bucket and
Take home