Walking in the Surf
The tide on the beach is slow, quiet,
this whisper of water on sand,
no one speaks like the sea.

You are listening too.
If I hold a shell up to your ear
will you tell me what you hear?


The First Note
It comes out of silence, then it’s in your heart.
One note, a wave sliding up the sandcastle wall,
washing it down to nothing, taking it back to the sea;
taken by velvet breath, long boned fingers, and flashing trumpet.