Shore Walk

I walked by the shore,
Holding a shell
Strung on a string
Round my neck

My eyes could not see
The sand at my feet;
They saw things not
On my trek.

An old man walked by
Humming a tune
Shuffling his feet
As he went.

“Where did it come from?”
He asked ‘bout my shell.
I answered the man,
Old and bent.

“Twas given to me
By the man I loved
Once when we walked
On this shore.

“We wandered all night
In still starlight
Listening to the sea’s
Mighty roar.

“At first glow of dawn
He gave me this shell
To remember sounds
Of our walk.

“Then he went to war
And never came back
To the shelled shore where
We used to talk.”

The old man smiled
And nodded his head,
Seeing the tears
In my eyes.

He knew well the sounds
Of war and of death:
The reasons an old
Woman cries.

To God be all glory.