The shell, the home, the shield
the extension of yourself meant to cradle, to carry you
or do you carry it
in your pocket, kept for a remembrance of
when you felt safe, secure, protected
the shape always different, surface always smooth
faced from the passage of time
pay no mind to the dirt or the skeletons left on the inside
these are reminders of the past nothing more
to say
left alone
the shell stays buried
nothing to protect
instead the water carves out holes to pass through
swirling into the submerged armor
the cavity starts with a single grain of sand
boring and grinding
but ends with a hole in your heart
in your home.
the sagacious bee 