A Small Sea Scallop

On the Sea of Cortez’ wet morning sand

I found a small shell that fit snugly in my hand

A rusty-colored scallop perfect in every way

Unscarred by jagged rock scouring sand

Or larger shells of prey

Nine deep-ridged spines knobbed with tawny tan

Spread out in symmetry Perhaps a mermaid’s fan

Like pockets they held mementos from the reef

A speck of grit a tiny flake of leaf

Cast up abandoned by Mother Sea

My little scallop seemed to talk to me

A lovely woman dies her beauty seen no more

My formless mindless creature died

And left its beauty on the shore