Memories...

These memories…

They are like pearls

Hidden

Inside oysters of the mind

That I have dived deep for and sourced

From the unfathomable depths

of the ocean bed.

Silently

I open them- the oysters

Unsure of what each one holds

Did they all make the pearls,

Or are some empty?

Will I have enough

Of these precious beads

To be strung together into

A neck piece?

Or will I be left

Empty handed as I walk

Alone on the shore
Fading into the sunset?