Shell Collector

He picks up pieces only,
partial shells,
small fragments of his life.

The shards are red and yellow,
blue and black,
some sharp,
some edges jagged.

He adds them to his jar,
a work of art,
the leavings of what was beauty,

broken lives
that still can glint in light,
mirror the sun;

such shining a simple reminder
of whence we come.