I wonder if millions of shells collect upon the ocean floors,

and how many of those will never come to see the sun again.

There are no currents to sweep them up

down there.

I wonder how many shells are used by creatures

whether as homes or little treasures.

I wonder if some creative crustaceans collect shells.

If they adorn the front porches of their dwellings,

sparkling and shimmering on the coral reefs.

I wonder how many times I’ve gone swimming

only to have shells and rocks brush against my legs.

I wonder if the ocean knows

just how to buff the sides of glass.

turning them into decorations of its own,

when the glass was not produced there.

I’ll ask you, even,

as one of the most

intelligent people I know,

“Why is it when you pick up a grain of sand is it then a tiny pebble,

but when you place it back with other tiny pebbles is it considered sand?”

Where have these shells been

before they reached our palms?