At the beach I collect sea glass
The broken pieces that could be counted as trash
As it washes in with the tide
The sea glass is broken but beautiful
And each piece is like a different memory
Every piece broken and shattered
What once was a part of a whole
Like fractured childhood memories
A meaningless remembrance of a stuffed toy
From a moment that meant so much more
Or remembering a stranger’s first arbitrary sentence
That turned into years of laughter and inside jokes
Sea glass is smoothed from the sanding of the tide and time
A dull side where once a cutting edge was
Like faded memories that were once harsh
A story told so often
That the words no longer cut your tongue coming out
A faded memory of something that once seemed so pressing
Often the colors of sea glass repeat
Browns, greens, and whites in abundance
Like everyday memories
The ones that blur into each other
Until it seems as if you’ve lived the same day in a loop
Until the bus stop and high school feel like the only places you’ve ever been in the whole world
Rare colors are a moment of difference but still just more varying pieces of sea glass
A tiny shard of purple or blue just barely Spotlighted amongst the ordinary
Like the singular memories that don’t quite get pulled into forgetfulness
Like the day that you always remember
Not because it was extraordinary
But because you sat with family
Sweating in the late summer heat
And you laughed and talked
And the day felt beautiful and real
On each beach I visit
The ocean gnaws hungrily at the sand
Onto the fine grains the tide has carried trash and treasure
Among the shells and litter
Encased in salt and sand
I find lost memories