Shell

like a slow-moving mountain on a horizon

after a long-period of blurry trees through a train window,

I saw my former self in a shell I left behind,

one I longed to break through in my mind.

it tells a story:

a mind never fixates in one pebble

it flows like a river from the mountain

ever shape-shifting, from roaring rumble

to a serenly calm fjor of chieftain

so while my mind is clear now

let me imprint in a script

you may not know how

but you have been loved while you lived.

remember as long as you can

and give to others, as others have done to you.

8.23.2024