Bivalve Confessions

a Saturday morning poem.

Bivalve ‘foot’ illustration.

a penny for your thought;
a pearl for a lesson.

sands in the mouth
as a blessing.

no grit, no gain.
no longer wincing

at pain, nor sorrow
as we look forward,

move toward
tomorrow in time

for the sands to become finer
and the water to grow still

I will wait. I take my lessons
for the necklaces and my soul

to keep.
for the shells, my love,

they weep.