|Image from Tess Kincaid Magpie Tales|
A seashell smaller than a fingernail
Overlooked by so many others
Combing the smooth sands
Deserted by the departing tide.
Missed looking for larger beach treasures
Scotch bonnets, lightning Welks, conch shells
Found among the baby ears and jingle shells
Wrapped in a piece of kelp.
And then it seemed
They were everywhere
A window opened upon their presence
Dotting the beach.
Thousands of tiny treasures
Washed and saved
In an neglected brandy sniffer.
Given pride of place
Because like a magic charm
They opened an unseen world.