Rhythm In Life

shaft-2086978_1920Mama was laid in one;

I remember like it was yesterday

A lifeless “pose”of her shell

Auntie, grandpa and grandma did too

“They” left in that pine box;

The box that claimed to be the “hero”

carrying the “shells” once pampered

Shells of my heroes

Shells of my memories

Shells that loved me

Shells that nurtured me

Shells of the strong and brave

I know that I hate it!

That pine box…

But, I know I have mine somewhere

To carry my shell

Not my soul



By Susan McMillan

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