The Wander

I go down to the shore and wander
Sand between my toes
Natures file
A thousand tiny pearls, 
Yet to be made into sea glass
Yet to combine for a bigger good
Group in its own artistic melodrama

The rotting sea wood scattered ashore
From many miles adrift
Their texture and personality a result of the smashing waves
Pounding it lifeless despite its lack of being
I wander and wonder what stories they could tell
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