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I once believed that shells contained the sound of the sea .
I lived in a gabled house then, painted lake-blue
under a dense, florid sky, a thousand miles from shore.

From shells I learned the power of curved things:
bells, bowls, my hands cupped against my two ears.
I once believed that shells contained the sound of the sea.

My body was an ear, bone & hair & nerve. I could turn
any sound into salt wind, waves, and seagull cries
under a dense, florid sky, a thousand miles from shore.

Growing up meant losing beautiful things.
How is it possible to lose an ocean?
I once believed that shells contained the sound of the sea.

Silence could not be trusted, its weight like layers of silt.
I feared the silence of inland places, of walking alone
under a dense, florid sky, a thousand miles from shore.

I am not through with believing. I stroll on the beach today.
The wind and the waves take me back to the time
when I once believed that shells contained the sound of the sea,
under a dense, florid sky, a thousand miles from shore.

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Copyright © 2021 Erica Goss All rights reserved
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Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission