The shells glisten as I hold them,

ready to be placed where I can see them easily.

Shells glisten

in my hands

as I look for

a special place

that can hold them.

Shells sit

on the nightstand

where I can look

anytime I need to

see them.

Shells hide

behind the books

under the papers

mixed in with other trinkets

not so important.

Shells allude me

as I try to grasp them

but my memory fades

and they slip through my mind

like grains of sand slip through my fingers.