The fisherman
sits with his legs crossed.
A slight frown crosses his face.

He has been sitting there for hours
counting the shells in the sand,
one by one...

The silence is almost total.
Almost, that is,
for the sounds of that place
reveal less than what they hold.

"It is not improbable...."
-he stops to think-
"that some little girl
might have some seashells in her collection."

Oct. 29, 2000.