Johanna Shapiro, PhD
Once
on a beach in a distant land
holding my mother’s hand
I found a conch
perfectly whole
its smooth pink interior
irresistible
Hold it to your ear
my mother said
You will hear the sea
Now
so many years later
my mother long gone
the shell is with me still
its edges broken
the luminous recesses dulled
The ocean’s echo faded
But when I hold it to my ear
I can hear
The sound of my mother’s voice