Sister Poetry

Observe the Life Lover!

He tends to travel barefoot,

On the sands

And if he stoops and lifts with gentle hands

Some cast-off from the shore’s debris

Watch him carefully.

He’ll seldom focus on the texture

Or the hue

But tip and turn the “treasure”

To assure himself

A better view

Of what’s inside.

With strange intensity he’ll peer

 into the pink and hidden folds

Or—better still—

He holds it to his ear…

Strange

How life-lovers tell of catching

rhythmic lappings

or a tempest swell

while others laugh at one

who’d listen to an empty shell!