To Each His Own Beachcomb

My life is like a stroll upon the beach. - Thoreau

a smooth pebble or a washed rock

maybe a shell, sand dollar or broken crustacean

elusive sea glass

mermaid's purse

i comb a balding beach

for anything within reach

a comb with missing teeth

except for myself, who i must coax and beseech

like driftwood

to each his own

to each

Author's Note

"They will tell you tough stories of sharks all over the Cape, which I do not presume to doubt utterly,--how they will sometimes upset a boat, or tear it in pieces, to get at the man in it. I can easily believe in the undertow, but I have no doubt that one shark in a dozen years is enough to keep up the reputation of a beach a hundred miles long." - Thoreau