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Seaside Ceremony

by Sandra Ervin Adams


I select three shells,

small and shiny, carry

them to a dry spot, set

them aside. Cross-legged,

I write in sand, a five,

a six, my new age.

In the center

I fit the shells together.


Fingers of sun warm my arms,

head, face. No trace of trouble here,

I close my eyes. Clear

water washes the edge

of the beach. A white gull watches.

At one with sun, sand, and sky,

I leave my shell behind.





(Published in New River High Tide,

Council for the Arts, 2008, and

They That Go Down to the Sea, 2010,

Old Mountain Press)


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