By the Sea

It was like a cannon on the wind
thrown far and wide by a tornado.
We all ended up in the same space,
the same small patch of ground
to call our own; to live in

as we watched each other grow
and flower and propagate,
becoming inviting to passing bees
and ornate women with lace gloves
on their porcelain hands, drifting

by to pluck us daintily by the elbows
and place us, small though we were,
on bookshelves and canvases adorning
their homes.  We were on a hunger strike
we knew nothing of until we met one another,

and with our hands inside our hearts,
found the cool interior beneath
the hot skin sand, throwing handfuls
of each other into the morning spring sky,
melting into glass, where passing light

might make rainbows of us all.
How small we will be together,
in our colors of happiness,
living life made golden by the sea
and the sand and the salt of each other

thrown lazily into the sky,
dim shadows of what we once were
disappearing into the midday sun.