Treasure Island

Jefferey Jones


At last


A shell
polished by water and sand
bleached white, when lifted
allows sunlight to pass.
a hole shows the place
where the resident left.

lips touching the sides
the cold water stings
as you breathe in, then
whisper your secret
that becomes a silent breeze
between us.

the shell, now void
skips across the waves
then rests
surrendering a gift,
this memory.

Submitted: Saturday, August 31, 2013
Edited: Monday, September 02, 2013

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