As a child, I was given a shell as a gift. There was no doubt in my mind that this shell had never seen the sea. It was too clean, too smooth, too perfect. While its inside was marble-white, its outer layer was slightly more craggy in texture, barely marked with a delicate strand of yellow.

This touch of colour seemed to give the shell character, despite its purity, and as I turned it in my hands, a story began to form.


Poetry of Seashores

This shell could never have lived on a beach,
its skin like the inside of coconut,

curls, only mimics the movement
of rock-pool water.

This shell could never have been a home,
it is pristine, polished, like fine bone.

Yellow light spills on its outer edge,
and I think of clifftops, covered in gorse,

finding the perfect line, the slow rise
of a jaundice rippled sun.

K. S. Moore

Photo by fdecomite on / CC BY

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K. S. Moore is a Welsh Poet and Writer, based in Ireland. Her poetry has recently appeared in The Stinging Fly, Southword and Crannog.Online magazines: Nutshells and Nuggets, And Other Poems, and Ink Sweat and Tears have also featured poems. Meanwhile, flash fiction and short stories have been published in FlashFlood, Metazen, Number Eleven and The Bohemyth.K. S. Moore has been shortlisted for Flash Mob 2013, Blog Awards Ireland and 99 Fiction. She has performed at Waterford Writers' Weekend, Waterford Winterval and Swansea's Dylan Thomas Festival.


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