At Seashore State Park,
I scan for a broken fragment
of something blue
among a low tide of
sun-bleached gull bones and sea foam.
I want something man-made
and then sea-worn.
There are whole things—
ark clams still intact,
iridescent oysters,
dead horseshoe crab,
and a sun-dried mermaid’s purse.
When I glean that smooth artifact:
a fragment of history, used bottle or glass,
I’ll take it home to rest
on a shelf or a chain around my neck
still
after decades of tumbling.
Haley Hendershot received her MFA in Creative Writing from Vermont College of Fine Arts. Her poetry has previously appeared in the Fredericksburg Literary and Art Review. Currently, she is a dual enrollment English teacher for John Tyler Community College at James River High School. She lives in Richmond, Virginia.
Banner image by SA / Virginia State Parks / CC BY 2.0
