I have been learning to play more with poetry, taking advantage of all these wonderful teachers here on Substack. This is my first (purposeful) attempt at an emblem poem workshopped with The Poetry Salon’s Structure & Surprise series. Please enjoy!
Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when published
Queen Conch
It is not, by some standards,
perfect,
though it is
treasure
It lay there gleaming
in the wet of morning
the color of bone, bleached
by the sun
One might put it to their ear and hear
the ocean crashing her waves
to smooth
the ribbed edges
Once a home to a soft-bodied
snail, the crowning diadem
of Fibonacci spiral
curving upward,
One crenellation chipped off
and lost to the sea,
a tiny window to the sand
Maybe when my insides have
been eaten by hidden things
of the deep
and washed-out by time
I too might lay on the sand
with my broken crown
still beautiful in the morning light,
carrying a whole
sea
of sound.
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