Photographer-Poet-Teacher Kim Douillard lives in San Diego, California. We’ve never met face-to-face, but we are friends connected by common interests. Her photos of the beaches in California are always inspiring. This week I was taken by this photo of a broken sand dollar. Where will this muse take you? Please leave a small poem in the comments and write encouraging comments to fellow writers.
Allan Wolf lost his father on the same day as I did. We had been in communication over a student Zoom visit when both of our lives were interrupted. Allan posted these words on Facebook, “Writing, like loving, is an act of faith. We bury a piece of ourselves and wait for something better than ourselves to eventually emerge.” Then I saw Kim’s photo. It’s all too fresh for me to write about today. Or maybe I’m just too raw. Nevertheless, friends, I leave these thoughts for you to make something beautiful with, as I know you will.
Reflections on the Teche 
At first loss is sharper
than a broken sand dollar.
The edges scrape away joy
and slice through happiness
like a knife,
until we’re raw.
But loss becomes a tool
gifted by the universe.
It peels away thick skin,
bad memories, leaving us
remembering
only good ones.
Margaret, My sympathies. Your pain calls out to mine — many losses. I circle you with love and confidence you’ll find your feet again. As we all do. A wonderful picture with deep symbolism.
Brenda, the line “The edges scrape away joy” is such a powerful image of sadness and pain–like Job taking a broken piece of pottery to scrape his sores. Good metaphors, and I like the hope of retaining the good memories.
I somehow knew when I released my hold my poet friends would come through. This is a wonderful poem to lead me through from loss to memory to love. Thanks.
You’re already healing. Love is a miracle.
“loss is sharper than a broken sand dollar” is such a beautiful image, Brenda. Thank you.
Loss becomes a tool – oh, how it numbs and sharpens us all at once. When my mother died, I grew to know things about her that I had never known while she was here – mostly the ability to care for my dad. She was the wind beneath his wings.
You learn things about yourself, too. I lost my mother a long time ago, and I had to learn to be my own mother.
Do you know when you
break open a sand dollar,
the angels pour out?
Margaret, peace to you as you mourn and grieve such a loss. May God’s angels surround and keep you, now and always.
Thanks for the angels!
I love thinking about angels filling the sea and sky.
The angels are in all of us.
Perfect haiku, Denise! Yes, those little starry angels are just what we need surrounding us in times of grief. Loss leaves such a gaping hole. I like the way you asked a question here – it’s beautiful!
Until We Meet Again
Two sides of me
the jagged
the smooth
Anticipate your perfect fit.
Love to you, Margaret.
Thanks for writing. My friend Christina told me she met you at Highlights.
Yes! It was a wonderful workshop.
A beautiful one, Rose. A poem to make you happy to be alive.
Such beautiful thoughts. I stand in awe. I love Brenda’s line “But loss becomes the tool,” Denise’s angels, and Rose’s anticipation of wholeness. All provide hope, and hope is a life force. Faith, hope, and love to you, Margaret.
Broken Sanddollars
tiny stars spill forth
offer possibilities
in such brokenness
I love thinking about possibilities. Hope in that!
So hopeful!
Beautiful, inspirational photo, Margaret. I understand the brokenness is still too fresh to write about – my thoughts and prayers remain with you and your family.
-an etheree-
Half
remains
afterward
it is enough
tangible beauty
even in mourning throes
to sense the infinite flows
of life undulating beyond
what the eye can see or hand can hold
where the spirit remains whole, unbroken
[…] by and dedicated to Margaret Simon, who shared the photo and who’s mourning the loss of her […]
I was finally able to write:
Buried Treasure
We bury ourselves in sand,
hardly present
like a broken sand dollar
looses its symmetry
becomes jagged & imperfect
yet emerges, unburies itself,
and offers its brokenness to the world.