Lonely Sunday Afternoon

It’s seldom I experience a lonely Sunday afternoon, perhaps never have in many, many years. But today is lonely, because of disappointment. I’m glad the sun is bright and hot. I don’t want to write. But I’ve dug up a poem for you, written a few months ago. Enjoy!

The Silent Roar ©

A giant conch shell settles in my hands,
its two sharp points undamaged by
the toss and fling of waterpower.
Its meat is gone, it has no pearl,
but enough smooth pink for a dozen cameos.

The enigma is, it holds the roar
of all the seas that I have known,
a roar scientists now say has no link
with blood vessels in the ear:
it is the sound of seas from which it came.

I shall not listen to this treasure’s roar,
to feel again past floodings of my heart.
It is enough to understand the roar exists,
if I but choose. I opt to keep my heart untouched,
for remembrance is too sweet to bear.

Mere holding this temptation in my hands
may wash away the heartaches with the sands.

♥