Heather Williamson

Poetry on roots, love, life and faith

Sea glass

I am not what I was
when I was new
nor am I what I should be.
Broken by the beatings
of life
and whirled in its storms.
Crashed hard in the rocks
and floated endlessly
endlessly
but not drowned.
I hope that kind hands
will lift me again
in time—
like sea glass.

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