Remnant Poem by Shane Markie

Once, as a child playing in our attic,
I found a small ceramic box
forgotten in the dark corner
of a desk drawer.

I unlatched the lid, carefully
lifted the white tissue
inside to reveal the complete
skeleton of a small seahorse
lying as if sleeping
on a bed of cotton.

It was more beautiful, more finely intricate,
than any ornament of lace, more entrancing
than any diamond or ruby rock could be.
So far from the sea . . .

I looked a long time, didn't touch,
left it as it had been,
closed the lid, whispered a word,
lay the tiny casket away
in the dark desk,
shut the drawer to light,

still hearing the
cresting sea, still
feeling the swell
of its current.