I was an observant guest In Shell Island Today. The bay was full of Countless shells. The waves every second Were tossing out in haste New-new piles of Scallops Empty shells; Some-colorful, some-pale, In various measures And shapes, New-new piles of Scallops Bare shells… The children were playing Carelessly with them, Peopl were collecting Fancy shells, And the oceans itself Tireless and endless Was conducting the shells’ crashes on bays…
In The Shell Island
Armenian News Network / Groong
August 20, 2005
August 20, 2005
This is an archival article originally published on August 20, 2005.
Information may be outdated.