The tides came close,
but they never took you away.
You’re old and pale,
perched upon the wet sand.
Your ridges began to fade,
but you still glimmered in the sun.
The water kept you alive.

Your edges held onto the sand,
and you never complained.
The strongest seashell on the shore.
I watched your edges fade,
and I watched you smile with the light.
You reflected the light back onto the water.
Despite your fading glory,
you still managed to make the world brighter.

The seagulls walked by you,
and the other shells gave in with the ocean waves,
but you stayed.
You stayed for me, I think,
to make my evening at the beach brighter.

But the evening grew colder,
and the sunset grew older,
the tides became stronger.
You didn’t move though,
stood like a pillar.
Small and fragile,
but the strength of a pillar.

But the ocean is strong,
with its currents and creatures.
And I watched you glimmer in the moonlight.
But when I looked away to grab another beer,
I heard a crashing wave.
A loud shore and I turned around.
You weren’t there.

I wanted to protect you,
I wanted to take you home with me.
But the shore was your home,
and you wanted to be at home.
You made my evening brighter,
you fragile little shell,
a delicate fragment,
but so giving, so essential.
You were with me that whole evening,
and I knew the waves would take you away at some point during the night.
But I didn’t get to say goodbye.
I wanted to say thank you,
for glimmering when you fade,
for staying when your ridges grew dull,
for being the most giving seashell on the shore.
I love you.
I miss you.
I hope you’ll return one day on the shore,
even as a soul,
I know even the tiniest part of you will still glimmer brighter than the ocean as a whole.