Memories of the Sea

When i place a shell to my ear and listen with all my might
it seems to me
I hear the sea.

Does the sea notice me?
Shells are the sea urchins debris and
not disposed of thoughtfully.

A past home for a crawling thing.
A shelter from the cold.
The urchin looked elsewhere and
vacated it as it was old.

The shell unloved.
Friendless and forlorn.
Whispers of days gone by.
Memories of the sea.

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