The Shell
A poem by Melanie Civin Kenion

The Shell

When the air was turbulent,
when the waves were
washing against the shore with vengeance
leaving unpredictable patterns in its wake,
I walked the beach in search of the perfect shell.

I picked up many,
blew away the sand
examined them
and put them down.
Formed by nature,
empty of the life that once inhabited inside,
now a complex piece of art.

The shell found me
as I knew it would.
The queen conch
whispered her secrets
when I put her to my ear;
she whispered of you.

And now,
sitting on the corner of my desk
she inspires my imagination.
She is the object of my affection
as I write,
bringing me back to the sea,
again and again.

About the Author:

Melanie Civin Kenion is a retired teacher living in Boston.  When not writing poetry in the wee hours of the morning,  she enjoys people watching from her terrace, craft cocktails, and adventure travel. 

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