the Pacific is angry after storms,
spits its vehemence upon a beach
I scry for transcendental relevance
fool am I to want the reassurance
of a chambered Nautilus…oh, my soul
to find meaning in the glow of sea glass
I watch children scavenge tidals for detritus,
pocket sandy bi-valve clams…all life dissolved;
think their skeletons are treasure…none
why then…do I nail upon a yard fence
nine and twenty abalone…grayed…barnacled
rainbow radiance diminished…there
Bonnie Marshall
Artwork by Ray Ortner
Proem... 
Beautiful.
That you would think so is deeply meaningful to me. Truly. Smile.
Both poem and accompanying art work are hugely satisfying, Bonnie!
Thinking I was at the prime of my life at twenty-nine…then, nah…today is a good day. Thanks, dear Jana.
Something ethereal about the sea and all its treasures. Evocative poem, Bonnie
I’m pleased you think so, Sharon. Smiles..
This moves so well, the constant swarming of the sea after a storm. 🙂
Your comment pleases me so…and I thank you. Smiles…
it’s interesting to see how the poem uses ellipses: in the first stanza not at all, but then using them more each stanza. it’s as if the poem’s persona becomes more hesitant as the poem unfolds. and, indeed, the last stanza presents a troubling image — of the old shells nailed to the fence and losing their radiance. as usual, bonnie, you use the tools in your poet’s toolbox to create a work worthy of the reader’s time and attention. — michael
Abalone shells are beautiful to me, Michael. The nine and twenty–probably only significant to me–is a prime of life reference, yet as I wrote to a good poet friend, these days are also prime, hence the more reflective pace. You are exceedingly perceptive, a quality I greatly value. Smiles…
You wouldn’t nail those abalone now, would you Bonnie? After-all, you would have to use 35 of them.
How gracious, Malcolm. Thinking…at heart I’m a cockeyed optimist…immature and incurably green, or however that song goes. Smiles…