poem: the sea shell

once or twice upon a time long long ago there was a sea shell.

it was white when it wasn’t blue. and pink when it wasn’t either blue or white.

and sometimes red too.

it lived on the shores of a very deep green sea.

you see, it didn’t have anybody living inside it for many many years and so didn’t have to move around much.

it just lay around and changed colours unless a
euphoric wave tossed it about an inch or two this way or that.

sometimes a little wandering something would crawl up to it with all of its none, two or sixteen legs, stay for a while and then would crawl away again.

the shell was either too big, or too small, or too
colourful. they were fussy, these little ones.

sometimes the sea birds would gather around it. “what’s in it what’s in it what’s in it” they would go. and then they would always fly away again.

to come back when they had forgotten there was nothing in it.

so day followed day, night followed night, and white followed blue followed pink followed red.

and the shell is still there today.

if you find it, let it be. because that is where it belongs.