shells

like stars beneath my feet
little shells pricked my toes that dragged
homeward at the end of a long
day. my eyes were drunk
on sunlight, stuck
with salt. i could no longer see
the homeless men at the corner
shouting glorious nonsense to god.
as if, like little gurus
these tiny sharp presences came
to point the way
into the dark, remind
my bones of their grateful weight.

Photo by Casey Horner on Unsplash