THE SHELL BOY

They swim now, face to face in the calm waters of a glazed frame:

two seahorses.

I remember the day - a beach in Portugal, a little boy sidling up to me, asking, if for a few coins, I would like to buy:  holding out in his hands, these two delightful creatures, gentleness shining out from them.

I’d see him every day after that, wandering the beach, searching for the unusual to sell to the tourists  -  tiny breadwinner.

He will be a man now, and I often wonder, whilst looking at the seahorses, if he himself finally found calm waters, and if that gentleness still shines out from his eyes.

in the city

still hearing the sea

in grandmother’s shell