SHELLS

Along the banded beach
lie tellins, bright crash-landed butterflies,
with shells of mussels, blue and glossy almonds,
and scallops, fossil fans laid out to dry.
Shells, like words, are what you make of them-
pilgrims' badges, money, pubic shields,
Aztec tribute, scoops for holding oil,
pastry moulds or gems.

To match the shining fragments
or find the metaphor of a different use
appears retrieval of a kind, but brings
no sense of shape: the bits remain diffuse
as waves are in the sparkling air of distance.
Beneath the minded phrases, what remains
is half a story, lifeless beauty shrugged
...