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Here you will find the writings of the poet Theodore Waterfield

Sea Shells

The sea scattered its shells
on the shore.
Loose chains,
seaweed adorning the tide.
Some look like the fingernails
of mermaids,
lavender and pearl.
We gathered a few.
Mary walked in the foam
of the waves.
Her hair flew in the wind.
I covered my face against the sun.
It suffers the wreckage of time,
the paleness of a ship’s figurehead,
long exposed to voyages.

I listened to the sea.
Is this where all the laughter goes?
The relentless monotony of waves.
The little tears inside shells.
Time added and subtracted
from the voice in the salt.
Where does it take our shadows?
How do they come back
after we leave?
Does the sea tell us in some
imponderable way,
stay a while.
Sing with me.
Swim in the spume
and rise in the light
like a gull
and wherever you go
I will hum inside you.

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