Perhaps it was the paleness
of the envelope face
with its slender address
gracefully written in purple ink,
or the fresh scent of evergreen,
pine and fir, filling the room with
its pitchy fragrance that lingered
after I broke the simple seal,
or the round piece of sea glass,
rock-worn and frosted, that slid
into my hand.
A memory, long
now, brilliant and real,
draws my attention.
A simple piece of sea glass, dark sepia, the color of the sea
on the horizon, round, its softly frosted patina rubbed smooth
in spots, pings and clicks as it settles in a jar on top of other pieces.
Like a memory that has been tossed aside, the sea glass takes
a life time of wearing away by the wildness of the sea, the waves
dashing against hard surface to become its beautiful sculptured self.
Tested again and again by the pull of the sea, its tides, its surf,
sea glass emerges stronger sculpted by wind, waves, and sand
surviving the ravages of time, surviving, sea glass will not break.