They Say You Can Hear the Ocean in a Seashell

A love poem

They say you can hear the ocean in a seashell. They say that if you blow

the soft seeds off a dandelion then all your wishes will come true.

They say that things will get better, and I hate to admit this,

but it’s true, it's all true. When the white summer sun

finally floats over the horizon, you’ll be able to stop

tossing logs into the fire that was keeping you

alive and it will shrink into nothing but

a ribbon of smoke and the

flicker of an ember.

Look! How the water laps at your ankles.

How salmon glide past you, their scales

iridescent, hand-placed one at a time by

some cosmic artist. How geese stumble

into the road like drunken college kids,

unphased by the growing lineup of cars

and the increasing frequency of honks.

How they honk back! How the family

dog barrels at you, unaware of the size

of his body or the size of your body or

anything except that he loves you and

he must show it by knocking you to the

ground and covering you in wet slobber.

Press the ridges of it all to your ear and

listen, really listen. You will hear it too.