Within the sand they wait each day,
and when, at last, you pass them by,
they implore through hues and shapes
as they desire to be found.

It often works, and then you lean,
reaching down to pluck them up,
believing you have gathered things
which really are collecting you:

once home in jars or in a box,
they garner looks, your memories.
One glimpse of them, you see the sea.
Through you they gain another life.